#i fear some of you are in for a shock when you reach your late 20's early 30's......
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fuckboy!ni-ki x reader ᡣ𐭩。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, etc.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki likes to lie and waste time.
a game player, smooth talker, and a liar when it suited him.
ni-ki knew exactly what to say to get what he wanted. he'd tell a girl she was the only one, that she was special, that he couldn't stop thinking about her, only to turn around and send the same message to someone else.
when he got what he wanted? he gets bored.
it was always the same: a few weeks, maybe a month if they were lucky, then he'd just start pulling away. no more sweet words, no more playful texts, it's dry responses and distance until they finally took the hint.
girls will cry, get angry, some even tried to plot revenge... but ni-ki? he never felt guilty.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki doesn't believe in love.
he won't date and won't do relationships. he wasn't interested doing those late-night calls or good-morning texts, and the thought of commitment made him want to laugh.
he just likes a little flirting, a little fun, love songs, fucking then moving on before things got too serious.
they liked the chase, thinking they could be the one to change him, and the idea of being the exception.
but there are no exceptions. he'd rather catch a body than catch feelings for somebody he barely knows.
ni-ki was always clear about what he wanted, even if they refused to believe him.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki was impatient.
he's leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and tight jaw. his fuck buddy is late and he hates waiting. it's not his style to sit around for anyone.
he sighed, running a hand through his hair. then, he spotted a familiar silhouette approaching.
finally.
and without hesitation, he reached out, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into the shadows.
"you took your sweet time." he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear, whispering. "i should make you pay for making me wait, don't you think?" then ni-ki started talking dirty.
and your body in his grasp stiffened.
ni-ki smirked. he loves it when someone gets shy because of him but something was off.
there's no giggle or eager hands slipping on his body.
only silence.
ni-ki pulled back, his eyes locked on your wide, terrified eyes.
you're a face he had never seen before.
"who the fuck are you?!" he blurted out.
"i- i'm sorry!" you stammered, breathing heavily in shock.
ni-ki's mouth opened to say something but before he could, you ran away, you ran so fast that your belongings spilled onto the floor in your rush to escape.
ni-ki cursed under his breath, running a hand down his face.
fuck.
not only he's not gonna have sex but he also accidentally just harassed a complete stranger.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki got mad, completely ghosting and blocked his fuck buddy's number.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki wasn't the type to dwell on things. if he ever made a mistake, he moved on. simple.
what happened with you? that bothered him.
maybe it was the way your eyes looked at him, it was pure fear, like he was some kind of monster... or maybe it was because he had never been the kind of guy to force himself onto someone.
he's cocky, sure. shameless, absolutely.
but he never needed to resort to shit like that and now, he just left a random girl traumatized.
great.
ni-ki took your abandoned things from his bag, staring at them in irritation. he could've just tossed this somewhere and let you deal with it, but it's the least he could do, right?
he looked for you everywhere and when he finally spotted you walking down the hall, he didn't hesitate.
"hey."
your body stiffened instantly when you saw him, you gulped and turned to leave.
ni-ki rolled his eyes and reached out, catching your wrist before you could escape. "relax," he sighed. "i'm just here to give you these…"
you hesitated but quickly grabbed your things and muttered, "thanks."
he let go but he's also expecting you to run again though he's not letting you off easily.
his fingers wrapped around your wrist again, "i'm not done..." he said. "why are you in such a hurry?"
"i gotta go…"
"oh, really?" ni-ki scoffed but released his grip. "fine. look, i'm sorry about earlier. i thought you were someone else."
"your girlfriend?"
ni-ki chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "no, i don't do girlfriends." he teased but it wasn't meant to joke or seduce. "you forgive me?"
you smiled slightly before nodding but then you tilted your head, curious. "...but why would you say something like that to someone who isn't your girlfriend?"
he smirked and leaned in again, so close you could smell his cologne.
"mind your own business, won't you?" he said and walked away.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki found you at his playground.
parties were all the same. loud music, flashing lights, people pressed up against each other like they forgot what personal space was.
ni-ki was used to it, it's his playground.
he's sitting with his friends, a smirk on his face while some girl clung to his arm, twirling her hair and giggling at everything he said, even though he wasn't even trying to be funny.
"so, ni-ki..." she purred, leaning in close, "when are we getting out of here?"
ni-ki exhaled through his nose, he's not in the mood yet and ready to give a half-assed answer until his eyes flickered to the entrance where you walked in.
huh.
you walked in, looking... insanely good wearing a dress that hugged all the right places. it made ni-ki's fuck boy brain short-circuit for a second.
the girl beside him was still talking, but he wasn't listening. his smirk twitched and his interest became completely derailed.
"wait here..." ni-ki muttered, removing the girl's arms off of him without another word.
she sputtered in protest but ni-ki was already gone, slipping through the crowd, with eyes locked on you.
he "accidentally" bumped into you, almost knocking you off balance. his hands instinctively gripped your waist to steady you.
"wow… you're-"
you covered yourself quickly, your arms crossing over your chest, and sent him a glare before he could even think about finishing that sentence
"what do you want?" you asked, unimpressed.
he blinked, momentarily thrown off.
"nothing." he recovered quickly, slipping his hands back into his pockets.
you sighed. "have you seen my friend, f/n?"
ni-ki shook his head. "i have no idea who that is," he admitted, then quickly added, "i'll help you look."
his hand landed on your shoulder but you instantly shrugged it. ni-ki scoffed at your unfriendly action, "seriously?" he asked, rolling his eyes but followed anyway, trailing beside you like he's trying to find his friend too.
he was enjoying himself, honestly.
his eyes kept drifting to you. the way your hips swayed slightly as you walked, the way your hair swung when you turned your head... it was so distracting and ni-ki found himself grinning.
he wasn't even gonna try to flirt anymore, he was just thrilled to be by your side.
you stopped in a less crowded part of the house, scanning the room, then you were pulling at your dress subtly, adjusting the hem like you're clearly uncomfortable.
ni-ki clicked his tongue "w- why are you wearing that if you're uncomfortable?"
you turned to him sharply, eyes narrowing. "why do you care?!"
"why are you so mad at me?"
"'cause i don't know what you're trying to do."
"i'm not trying do do anything to you!"
you glared at him again, adjusting your dress.
"tch." ni-ki removed his jacket and threw it at your face.
"what the hell-"
ni-ki rolled his eyes, already regretting being nice. "wear that, idiot."
you hesitated.
he sighed and turned away, "do whatever you want."
you slipped the jacket over your shoulders then ni-ki peeked at you from the corner of his eyes where he saw you practically drowning in his jacket. you looked so tiny in it, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.
you finally spotted your friend near the drinks table, "f/n!" you called out, relieved.
your friend turned with a smile then her eyes immediately widened when she saw who was standing beside you.
"oh. my. God." she gasped, barely even acknowledging you because she's looking at ni-ki.
ni-ki smirked at her reaction, clearly used to it. "hi. what's up?"
you friend actually looked starstruck for a second before shaking herself out of it.
"why are you with him?" she whisper-yelled at you, leaning in like you just brought home a stray cat but the dangerous kind.
"he just helped me find you." you replied, and without another word, you grabbed her arm and practically dragged her toward the exit.
"bye, ni-ki!" your friend waved at him.
ni-ki chuckled, grinning while watching the two of you rush off.
as soon as you and your friend stepped outside, she immediately started her interrogation, eyes gleaming.
"okay," she breathed, grabbing your shoulders. "do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?!"
you groaned. "it's not what you think!"
she gasped, dramatically covering her mouth. "wait… did you do it?"
you blinked. "what do you mean by it?"
she wiggled her eyebrows and giggled, playfully slapping your arm. "you know what I mean~"
you eyes widened in disgust. "i would never do it with anyone!"
she laughed as you pushed her lightly, still giggling like a schoolgirl.
"okay, okay, i believe you..." she teased. "but still, damn. ni-ki even gave you his jacket?"
she said, snatching the sleeve of the jacket and sniffed it.
you grabbed it back.
she gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "it smells expensive… sexy, actually."
you gave her a disgusted look again and tightened the jacket around you, trying to ignore the fact that, yeah, it did smell good.
"don't get so weird about this." you warned.
she only laughed, linking her arm through yours. "now tell me more about you and ni-ki."
"there is no me and ni-ki!"
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki suddenly wants to prove that he wasn't actually the asshole you thought he was but ended messing it up.
he told himself it was over. he gave back your stuff, apologized (which, honestly, he never did for anyone), even gave you his jacket, and that should've been the end of it.
he tried not to be pushy 'cause he knew better now, but he still found ways to be around you. if he saw you at school, he'd just give a casual nod. if you were in the cafeteria, he'd sit nearby, pretending it was a coincidence. and if you caught him looking, you'd glare and he would quickly look away.
he was used to people chasing him, used to girls who always wants something from him, not someone who wanted nothing to do with him. and when you made it clear, he said "you really think the worst of me, huh?"
you crossed your arms. "can you blame me?"
ni-ki huffed a laugh. "i don't even do shit to you."
but then, you might just be playing hard to get, right?
he smirked, grabbing your phone and held it high.
"ni-ki, i swear- give it back!"
you jumped, reaching for it, but he was way taller. he tilted his head, watching you struggle, and then...
fuck it.
because he's ni-ki, he's reckless, stupid and didn't think things through... he kissed you.
it was quick, barely even a brush of lips.
he pulled back, expecting a reaction, but not the one he got.
your face twisted in disbelief before you hit him.
you smacked his chest repeatedly, pushing him, "what is wrong with you?! that was my first kiss, stupid!"
ni-ki's eyes widened. "wait- what? seriously?"
you fought back your tears, shoving him one last time before storming off. "don't talk to me ever again!"
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is doing something completely out of character.
he didn't plan to kiss you. it just happened like some dumb, impulsive thought he acted on before his brain could catch up.
he wanted to reach out but what the hell was he even supposed to say?
"hey, my bad for stealing your first kiss lol?"
"i didn't think it'd be that big of a deal."
"wait, you really never kissed anyone before?"
shit, no. that was all dumb as hell.
for the next few days, ni-ki is not being himself.
he forgot his usual girls, he hadn't even been with anyone ever since he met you.
"dude, what's up with you?" one of his friends asked.
ni-ki just shrugged, flipping his phone in his hands. "nothing."
you were avoiding him like he was some virus. you look the other way when he walked past or really refusing to even glance in his direction.
so, fine. he swallowed his pride and showed up at your house.
you opened the door, immediately frowning when you saw him. "what do you want?"
ni-ki exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"i'm sorry, alright?" he said quickly. "i was being an idiot, i didn't think, and..."
"you're apologizing?"
ni-ki groaned, shoving his hands in his pockets. "yeah..."
you crossed your arms, unimpressed. "took you long enough."
he sighed, stepping closer. "i didn't know it was your first kiss, alright?"
you rolled your eyes, "whatever."
then ni-ki hugged you.
you gasped, trying to make him let go. "what- what are you doing?!"
ni-ki just chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "saying sorry?"
"by hugging me?!"
"would you rather i kiss you again?"
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"
he laughed again, pulling back slightly to look at your flustered expression.
you scowled. "you're such a pervert."
his smirk returned, teasing. "you liked being hugged though."
you smacked his chest hard. "GO HOME, NI-KI."
he grinned, backing away "but we're good now, right?"
you didn't answer, just slammed the door in his face.
ni-ki chuckled to himself, breathing in relief as he walked away.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is trying his best to please you... and hold himself back from being a fuck boy.
ni-ki has a serious problem. these days, he found himself doing things that were completely out of character.
like waiting outside your classroom when he swore he was just going to pass by, remembering your usual order at the café near school and handing it to you in front of everyone like it was no big deal, and making sure you got home safe after study sessions.
he wasn't even trying to get anything out of it because for once in his life, he actually wanted to do things the right way. he wanted to get a girlfr- girl friend. a friend that's a girl. that's all.
totally normal. nothing weird.
but it's so frustrating because you weren't even making it easy for him.
you still roll your eyes at him when he tried to be nice. you still gave him unimpressed looks when he offered to carry your things. and the other day, when he casually said you looked cute, you hit him with a deadpan, "what do you want?"
like, damn. he was actually trying here.
then… you'll also do things that completely messed him up.
your cheeks puff out whenever you concentrate, making him desperately want to bite them.
or how we would notice your tits slightly jiggle and move whenever you're running or simply writing. suddenly, he would have to leave the room for fresh air.
when you got mad at him, all fiery and stubborn, he had the worst urge to just shut you up, not in a way that was appropriate for a friend.
ni-ki groaned, running a hand down his face.
his first thought?
"God, i wanna touch."
his second thought?
"i need help."
you left something at school. suddenly, he showed up at your door, handing your things back along with a bottle of your favorite drink.
you looked at him confused, ni-ki rolled his eyes, pushing the bag into your hands.
"you… bought this for me?"
"don't be weird!" he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "just take it."
you stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside. "you wanna come in?"
ni-ki shook his head, he knew himself. he knew that the second he got too comfortable, his usual instincts would kick in... he would start flirting, the way he always found a way to get what he wanted.
instead of smirking and stepping inside like he usually would, he just shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling.
"nah," he said. "i'll just see you tomorrow, okay?"
a small smile formed at your lips. "thanks, ni-ki."
he turned away quickly, waving a hand over his shoulder while his heart raced so fast. "welcome."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki who can't figure out if you're just a damsel in distress or actually bossing him around
ni-ki likes to think he's a pretty capable guy. he's used to girls needing him for things... carrying their bags, opening their drinks, giving them rides home. he didn't mind. it boosted his ego.
but every time you asked for his help, he couldn't tell if you were actually helpless or if you're just treating him like some personal assistant.
you handed him your backpack without a word while texting on your phone.
ni-ki blinked. "uh… am i supposed to carry this?"
"yeah." you replied without even looking at him.
"…please?"
you gave him a look. "i could say please, but you're already holding it."
then later you stared at a vending machine like it had personally offended you.
"what, it didn't give you your snack?"
"no..." you huffed, crossing your arms. "it won't take my bill."
ni-ki sighed, pulling out his own money and sliding in a new bill. the machine beeped, and he pressed your selection.
the the snack dropped, you grabbed it, turned on your heel, and walked away.
the way you pouted when you struggled with something, how your brows furrowed in concentration, the tiny pleased smile you gave when things worked out in your favor... it pleased him too.
so when you showed up next to him one day, shaking your phone with an exaggerated sigh, ni-ki already knew what was coming.
"my phone is dead," you said.
he smiled "finally."
you glared, "give me your charger."
ni-ki scoffed in disbelief. "you don't even pretend to be polite anymore!"
you pouted. "please?"
his eye twitched. you're so annoying. cute but mostly annoying.
ni-ki pulled out his charger and handed it to you. "i swear, don't lose it."
"i never lose things." you said, already plugging it in.
"liar." he shook his head. "you lost your AirPods case last week."
you laughed and waved him off. "that was one time."
ni-ki smiled, he felt that stupid warmth creep up his neck again when he heard your laugh.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki asked you to work out with him.
you regret this.
you had never worked out before but when ni-ki said, "come on, i'll go easy on you." you refused to back down.
big mistake.
now, here you are, struggling to breathe properly while ni-ki, just finished another set of weights, stood there looking like some Greek god.
sweat clung to his skin, his black shirt sticking slightly to his toned torso. his hair was pushed back from his forehead and sharp jawline got even more defined.
you gulped.
then he caught you staring. his lips curled into a grin. "like what you see?"
you quickly looked away. "shut up."
he only laughed.
later, back in your room, you are dying.
your muscles ached in places you didn't even know existed. you lay on your bed, groaning while ni-ki sat next to you, arms crossed.
"you're overreacting." he said.
"you tricked me," you accused. "you said you'd go easy."
"i did!" he defended, snickering.
you groaned again, moving slightly only to wince at the soreness in your legs.
ni-ki smiled. "want a massage?"
you looked at him. "you give massages?"
he smirked. "i'm really good with my hands."
you squinted and he laughed. ni-ki began to straddle your back, hands pressing into your tense shoulders.
the moment he started kneading your muscles, your body melted.
"oh… that's so good…" you whispered, voice airy.
ni-ki chuckled. "i am good, huh?"
"ye- yeah, it feels so good." you mumbled, already slipping into a relaxed haze.
ni-ki's hands stilled for a second.
your voice sounded… weirdly suggestive.
he bit back a laugh. he knew you were just tired, but hearing you say that in such a soft, breathy tone? hmm.
he kept massaging, feeling the tension slowly leave your body. it wasn't long before your breathing evened out.
"…did you just fall asleep?" he muttered.
silence.
ni-ki shook his head, you looked so peaceful, face slightly turned to the side, lips parted slightly.
his eyes trailed to your exposed neck, ni-ki's heart pounded while reaching out, gently brushing your hair aside.
and before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pressing soft, featherlight kisses along the curve of your nape up to your neck.
your body reacted on instinct, tilting slightly, giving him more access.
a soft, sleepy moan escaped your lips.
ni-ki's eyes widened, heart slamming against his ribs.
"…a- are you awake?" he asked.
silence.
panic surged through him. he quickly grabbed the blanket and draped it over you, standing up so fast he nearly tripped.
ni-ki ran home and the second his front door swung open, he stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind him. his fingers went straight to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at it while his mind still clouded with you.
the soft moan you let out, the way your body naturally tilted into his touch, the warmth of your skin beneath his lips.
his jaw clenched as he glanced down at cock, his sweatpants doing a poor job at hiding the evidence of just how badly he was losing control.
ni-ki groaned, balling his fists, fighting the instinct to just take care of it.
he grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts.
the phone barely rang before a familiar, flirty voice answered.
"hey, ni-"
"how fast can you get here?"
the girl on the other end giggled. "mhm, about 30, 40 minutes-"
click. that's too late.
ni-ki exhaled sharply, tossing his phone onto his bed. his hand ran through his hair, feeling the frustration throughout his body. he pulled his sweatpants back up, shaking off the temptation.
and even though he had just worked out, he grabbed a set of weights and dropped to the floor, blasting music at full volume.
push-ups. sit-ups. anything to burn the tension off.
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki looked like shit the next day
you burst out laughing the moment you saw ni-ki.
he looked rough. dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, slouched in his chair like he barely made it out of bed.
"what happened to you?" you grinned, poking his arm.
ni-ki groaned, brushing you off. "it's your fault."
"wha- my fault? what did i do?"
he turned his head away, eyes shutting like he couldn't even look at you right now. "just… drop it."
you leaned in, pushing him playfully. "come on, tell meee." you pouted. "fine, then at least let me make it up to you! what can I do?"
ni-ki scoffed, tilting his head back against the chair. "there's nothing you can do."
when class ended and you followed him towards the gym storage room.
"ni-ki!" you called, slipping inside right behind him.
he turned around just as the door slammed shut. the click of the lock echoed through the small space.
"…are you kidding me?" ni-ki muttered.
you tried the handle. locked.
ni-ki groaned, he sat and started rubbing his face. "i really don't have the energy for this right now."
you stepped in front of him, with hands on your hips. "you seriously won't tell me what's wrong?"
and instead of answering, ni-ki suddenly reached out, gripping your waist and pulling you close.
you froze as he rested his head against your stomach, arms wrapped around you.
"just shut up, will you?" he murmured, voice muffled against your shirt.
you brought your hand to his hair, your fingers brushing the strands. you began to comb through them slowly, your touch gentle and rhythmic.
his body relaxed against you, the tension in his grip softening. ni-ki hummed.
you began to smile while playing with his hair, twirling a few strands between your fingers before smoothing them out.
it's sweet... but your legs were starting to ache.
"okay... maybe just a little longer." you thought, shifting your weight slightly to ease the pressure on your feet.
ni-ki didn't move. if anything, his grip on your hips tightened, like a sleepy child clutching a favorite pillow.
your legs began to tremble faintly, you hoped ni-ki would notice.
but nothing, he was like a cat curled up in the perfect sunbeam.
you sighed quietly, glancing down at him. your hands still in his hair as you debated your options. "maybe if i lean a little, he'll..."
ni-ki let out a low hum, his grip loosening just slightly as he shifted his head. for a split second, you thought your prayer had been answered, until he wrapped his arms fully around your waist, pulling you down to his lap.
"ni-ki!" you hissed, barely catching yourself with your hands as you stumble forward.
his eyes cracked open, a sleepy smirk tugging at his lips. "why are you so tense?"
"because you're treating me like a body pillow!"
"you're comfy."
you groaned, glaring at the top of his head. ni-ki added "you should've leave me alone." the smirk of his returned as his arms tightened around you once more.
"you know..." he began, "let's just skip class, you wanna sleep with me?"
your eyes widened, your brain short-circuiting at his words. "wha-what do you mean sleep with you?" you stuttered, leaning back instinctively.
ni-ki flicked your forehead lightly, his smirk growing. "not like that, you idiot." he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "i meant just sleeping. me, you, sleeping here. eyes closed. that's it."
you laughed awkwardly. "right..."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki realized that he doesn't want to be your friend.
ni-ki got annoyed the second you started talking about jungwon. he had just introduced him but he noticed the way your eyes stared at his friend.
ni-ki subtly stepped in front of your view, blocking jungwon from your sight.
"hey! move!" you hissed, trying to peer around him.
and instead of budging, ni-ki covered your eyes with his hands.
"what the?!" you immediately grabbed at his wrists, struggling.
he kept his hands firmly in place, waiting until his jungwon hyung was completely out of sight.
and when he finally let go, you blinked, looking around. "where is he?"
ni-ki smirked. "i killed him."
you smacked his arm.
later, he was sitting on his bed while you lounged across from him, "he was really nice," you said, kicking your feet. "and kinda cute too, like a cat don't you think?"
"who do you like better, me or him?"
you blinked, confused. "what kind of question is that?"
"just answer."
"i like you," you said casually. "as my friend."
ni-ki scoffed. maybe he did want to be your friend before but that isn't the case anymore.
"i'm not your friend."
"yes, you are."
ni-ki grabbed your face with both hands, tilting your head up before slamming his lips onto yours, aggressively like he was trying to erase every thought you had of jungwon. "friends don't do this."
rough and desperate, his fingers pressed into your cheeks as he devoured your mouth, refusing to let you breathe while angling your head exactly how he wanted..
you gripped his shoulders, a muffled gasp escaping your lips as he deepened the kiss.
but ni-ki wasn't just kissing you, he was already claiming you.
he groaned against your lips, hands sliding to the back of your neck. holding you in place like he didn't want you slipping away and the second your lips parted slightly, he will deepen the kiss even more, biting at your bottom lip like he wanted to ruin you.
and when ni-ki finally pulled away, his lips were already swollen.
"you were saying?" ni-ki muttered, still holding your face.
you stared at him, breathless, lips tingling.
"…huh?"
he smirked, wiping his thumb over your lower lip before leaning in again.
"that's what i thought."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki can't keep his hands off you.
you used to slap his hands away.
his arm over your shoulder? gone.
sneaking his hands around your waist? not happening.
grabbing your wrist to pull you closer? absolutely not.
but after the kiss, you started letting him and ni-ki noticed... of course, he did.
the first time you didn't push him away when he rested an arm around your shoulders, he almost did a double take.
you also didn't immediately escape when he pulled you onto his lap and when he linked his fingers with yours? he was expecting you to smack his hands, but you didn't.
"you're getting too comfortable," you muttered, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.
ni-ki only smirked, giving your hand a squeeze.
"you're spoiling me, you know." he murmured against your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "if you keep this up, i'll start thinking you actually like me."
you scoffed, pushing his face half-heartedly.
ni-ki chuckled, leaning in like he was about to kiss you again. you froze, expecting the warmth of his lips- but he only brushed his nose against yours.
he pulled back, satisfied at the way you reacted. "see?"
your cheeks burned, frustration bubbling in your chest. you freed yourself from his grip and walked away, annoyed.
ni-ki watched you go with amusement. "where are you going?"
"far away from you."
✶ fuckboy!ni-ki ready to be yours.
"go put on a nice dress." ni-ki said over the phone.
you raised a brow. "why?"
he grinned. "because we're going to a restaurant."
you narrowed your eyes. "we are?"
"yeah." replied. "i made a reservation."
you got ready anyway. and when you stepped out in your dress, ni-ki scanned you up and down, "pretty." he murmured, before grabbing your hand and leading you outside.
before you both enter the restaurant, he suddenly intertwined his fingers with yours, "this is a date, okay?" he said, watching your reaction.
you blinked, caught off guard. "a what?"
ni-ki just grinned and dragged you inside.
your eyes widened as you looked around the table. all your favorite foods were there, plated beautifully under the dim, warm lights.
you turned to him, speechless.
ni-ki simply pulled out a chair for you, nodding at the seat.
the dinner was nice. way more than nice. he talked, he listened, and laughed with you.
"is this real? are you actually asking me out?"
"yes," ni-ki said, nodding. "i'm serious."
your chest tightened. you wanted to believe him but a part of you was scared.
what if he change his mind? what if you let yourself fall, only for him to break your heart once you bit into it?
ni-ki noticed your hesitation. he hated that you had to doubt him but he can't also blame why, though he wasn't just playing around.
he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips. "just a bit more of your trust, okay?" he whispered against your skin.
you stared at him for a moment before finally leaning in to hug him.
he held you close, his lips curving against your shoulder. "you were mine the first time i kissed you."
you pulled back and laughed, playfully slapping his arm as you remembered how he stole your first kiss.
at his house, ni-ki captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. his mouth moved against yours, savoring every moment. he then pressed soft kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.
he found that sensitive spot that made you moan, he latched on and sucked harder, relishing the sound of your pleasure.
ni-ki started guiding you towards his bedroom, never breaking the kiss. once inside, he gently laid you down the bed, his body still pressed against yours.
he looked up at you with intense desire in his eyes, he asked breathlessly, "can i?" his eyes flicked down to your heaving chest.
you nodded, granting him permission. ni-ki didn't hesitate, slipping his hands under your shirt to fondle and tease your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.
you arched into his touch, panting softly. he swallowed down your needy moans as he devoured your lips again, his tongue delving deep to clash against yours.
"friends won't do this, right?" ni-ki gasped between heated kisses. he tugged your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. his mouth moved, licking and sucking at your bare breasts.
your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you as he lavished all attention on your tits.
then ni-ki trailed kisses down to your stomach. hooking his fingers in your panties, he groaned at feeling soaked folds. "fuck, you're so wet for me already," he murmured, tracing his finger along your slit.
he buried his face between your thighs and began eating you out with your panties on. the fabric added delicious friction when his mouth sucked the sensitive bud, lapping at your clit.
you cried out, ni-ki removed your panties. the first swipe of his tongue directly on your pussy made you both moan. you taste even better than he imagined.
ni-ki growled. diving in for more like a starving man. his talented mouth had you writhing and gasping within moments.
he couldn't help but picture how tightly your virgin pussy would squeeze his cock when he finally got to slide inside you. he just know he wouldn't last long once he felt your walls gripping him.
his tongue darted in and out of your slick folds, making you to tug on his hair harshly.
ni-ki's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he licked and sucked your clit with sloppy, desperate motions. sounds of your moans and gasps only served to fuel his own growing arousal with every passing second.
but he promised himself he could wait, for now, he was content to focus solely on pleasuring you, determined to make you feel as good as possible.
he sealed his lips around your clit and suckled hard, pressing two fingers inside as listened to the squelching sounds of your tight cunt.
you cried out, your back arching off the bed as he pumped them in and out. "ni-ki, i...i think I'm going to...ahhh!" your words dissolved into a wordless moan as he curled his fingers just right.
soon, your thighs clamped around his head as you came, your pussy clenching down on his fingers in rhythm.
ni-ki crawled up your trembling body to capture your lips in a deep kiss. "you taste so good," he murmured against your mouth. "i can't wait to be inside you." he said as he positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the thick head of his cock at your wet folds "i'll be gentle, baby."
"tell me if it hurts too much." he added, slowly pushing forward when he felt your walls relaxed slightly.
you let out whimpers and sharp gasps, the sting of pain clouded your eyes with tears. ni-ki paused, giving you a moment to adjust to the new feeling of being filled inside completely.
the sensation of your pussy squeezing him was unlike anything else. he wanted to fuck the shit out of you, claim you so thoroughly that you'd never forget your first time but he loves you so he has to be patient and gentle with your innocent body.
your whimpers and moans filled the room, ni-ki's heart swelled seeing you like this, breathless, desperate... he can't believe that your body is his for the taking.
your cunt began to welcome him inch by inch.
"fuck, you feel amazing." he groaned, fighting the urge to hammer into you wildly.
starting with shallow thrusts, he gradually increased his pace, still mindful of your pain. and as ni-ki doing it deeper, he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. "you're taking my cock so well..." he praised. "so fucking sexy."
your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head back in bliss, lost to the new pleasure and pressure building inside you. ni-ki felt your walls fluttering around him erratically. "ni-ki, i think- i'm- again..."
he knew you were close.
he increased his pace, deep strokes hitting that special spot inside you with every thrust. his hands gripped your hips enough to bruise as he fucked his dick into you, grunting with the effort of holding himself back from his own release.
and with a strangled cry, you came undone beneath him. ni-ki followed soon after with a moan of your name, pulling out before spilling his cum all over your thighs.
after cleaning up, ni-ki crawled back into bed and pulled you to his chest, kissing your face and neck but you moved and positioned yourself in his hips, where his hardening cock already poking on your sensitive, beaten entrance. "ready again?" he chuckled, wrapping his arms on your waist, his face nuzzling on your neck.
you giggled and sank down on him with a gasp. ni-ki groaned at the slick heat enveloping him again, making love with more confidence this time around.
rounds later, you're all sweaty and tired. ni-ki wondered dazedly if he'd turned his sweet, innocent girl into a sex addict. "you're so good, ni-ki..." you said, kissing him. to ni-ki, you looked like a sex god, your lips kiss-swollen, chest full of hickeys, your hair is a mess...
completely wrecked by him.
he wrapped his arms around your limp form and rolled to the side, careful not to dislodge from where he was still buried inside you.
and you're there thinking about worshipping ni-ki's body for the rest of your life.
"i'm going to fuck you all over again in the shower." he declared with a wicked grin. you answered with a moan that tells him it sounds like the perfect plan.
never knew sex could hit this different when it was out of love.
a/n: this is too long lol! enjoy <3
read Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend
read Nishimura Riki as your classmate
read part-timers!ni-ki x reader
read part-timers!ni-ki x reader part 2
read snitch - reader x ni-ki
read touché - ni-ki x reader
read touché - ni-ki x reader part 2
read exes - ni-ki x reader
#enhypen ff#enhypen imagines#enhypen niki#enhypen riki#enhypen smut#ni ki#niki fanfic#niki nishimura#nishimura riki#enha#enha smut#ni ki smut#nishimura riki smut#ni ki enhypen#enhypen ni ki#enhypen nishimura riki#riki x reader#ni ki x reader#niki smut#ni ki imagines#enhypen fic#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen scenarios#enhypen#kpop smut#ni ki fluff#ni ki scenarios#enhypen hard hours#enha x reader#enha scenarios
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too many white lies and white lines .ᐟ
plot: bestfriend!satoru helps his best friend get over her crush on Ryomen Sukuna
content warning: angst, mentinos of: drug and alcohol use, violence, fingering, oral f!recieving, piv sex, domestic violence
peachy's yap: wc 1.2k.ᐟ no thoughts except Gojo. this just a short little thought! just tryna clear out my drafts sighhh.
bestfriend!satoru who can't fathom why you're not together already. who waits for you, anywhere at any time, no matter how weird-looking or sketchy it is.
bestfriend!satoru shows his love by holding you in his arms during group movie nights or having you sit in his lap when there were more than enough seats. or when he kissed your cheek when you were leaving his house to go down the street to yours.
bestfriend!satoru knew you didn't see him like that, and you didn't feel the butterflies like you felt with sukuna.
bestfriend!satoru understood how you felt, ryo was tall and muscular and totally your type.
bestfriend!satoru, suguru, and you who were born in the same year. your parents were best friends and made you all have a tight-knit friendship. years later, you acquired more friends like shoko, utahime, sukuna, and kento, who always brought along haibara.
bestfriend!satoru and suguru's would drive you all to a party or even a small diner that was open late at night. tonight you were all heading to a club which was a new scene for you. you used this as an an opportunity to seduce sukuna into wanting you.
bestfriend!satoru was forced to sit in the front with utahime. you clung onto sukuna's muscular arm, staring up at his chiseled jawline with heart eyes. you even follow behind him as you walk to the front door of the club. but sukuna made it obvious you weren't his interest. he's feet in front of you as you talk to the back of his head.
bestfriend!satoru knows of your energy-depleting crush on sukuna. his arm snakes around your waist placing a kiss on your forehead in comfort. you once again not noticing the gesture was romantic and not platonic.
"you think he'll ever notice me satoru?" you asked and he shook his head.
"i don't think so, love. ryo only treats women as toys it's better you don't get involved with him anyway. i'm sorry to disappoint you."
bestfriend!satoru rubs small circles on the exposed skin of where he held your waist. you both walked into the club, of course, on the VIP list due to the status you all held.
"well i just thought maybe since we've been friends for so long, he'd treat me... differently," you admitted and he nodded. satoru hated to admit it but you were bringing the mood down.
"hey let's not think about it okay? we wanted a night out so let's enjoy it." he smiled and you nodded walking in sitting in the section.
bestfriend!satoru said to enjoy it but this is not what you thought he meant. the coke, the shots of liquor that never stopped coming, some passed out, eyes rolled to the back of their heads.
bestfriend!satoru was more surprised, sukuna, who was a fuckin' unit was high head thrown back. eyes bloodshot white powder under his nose as he twitched lightly here and there.
bestfriend!satoru, suguru, and you looked at each other in absolute horror these were not the people you thought you knew. you three slipped out of the club not wanting to 'disturb' their high. honestly, the night felt like a fever dream to you and you were in utter shock.
bestfriend!satoru could see the fear on your face, probably from the way utahime reached across the table trying to bring her key to your nose. you slapped it away looking at her incredulously as she grew angry. she yelled at you saying 'do you have any idea how much a pinch of this cost!' you not caring to know, only shrugged refusing to even look at the white substance on the table.
bestfriend!satoru held your waist as suguru asked if you guys were coming to his place and you shook your head. you really wanted to lay in your bed and reel in your thoughts.
bestfriend!satoru knew that was what you needed. he wanted to be everything ryomen sukuna couldn't be for you. he wanted to be your savior and tonight that's what he'd be.
"i got her." he smiled and suguru nodded walking over to his car.
bestfriend!satoru took you home offering to come in and stay with you and you of course said yes. he sat on your bed while you took your shower looking around the room he's slept in many nights before.
bestfriend!satoru listened to you rant about the night as he watched you get dressed. hardon pressing against his pants as he watched you jump to put on those small shorts that barely covered your ass. he really wished you kept them off.
bestfriend!satoru opened his arms inviting you to lay with him your cheek pressed against his chest. no tv no lights just you wrapped in satoru and the darkness.
bestfriend!satoru who was feeling bold and knew you needed a distraction slowly rubbed your back moving lower and lower by the minute. your eyes had adjusted to the dark and you could see his big blue eyes looking at you.
bestfriend!satoru moved his hand to your ass gripping it as you moaned. you loved the feeling of his soft hands on your ass. the way he rubbed slowly some of his fingers grazing under the shorts.
bestfriend!satoru couldn't hold back anymore as he flipped the both of you over. pressing the tent of his hard cock on the prominent imprint of your pussy on your shorts. he ground his hips into yours groaning at the feeling.
"is... is it okay for me to fuck you?" he asked and you nodded needing him just as bad.
bestfriend!satoru knew you did this because you wanted to get over sukuna. but he didn't care. he didn't care you were only letting him pull down your shorts and panties because you wanted to get over sukuna.
bestfriend!satoru didn't care that you were only letting him finger your needy wet pussy and suck on your hard nipples because you wanted to get over sukuna.
bestfriend!satoru didn't care you were only letting him taste your sweet pussy and you only squirted in his mouth saying how much you loved it because you wanted to get over sukuna.
bestfriend!satoru didn't care that you let him fuck your tight cunt senseless because you wanted to get over sukuna. or that you yelled out 'fuck ryo' while he fucked you because you imagined sukuna and not him.
bestfriend!satoru didn't care that you let him nut in you and you told him you loved him. didn't care that you clung to him like a koala and whispered how good he made you feel just because you needed to get over that man. ryomen sukuna.
ex-bestfriend!satoru did care when you went to sukuna the day after and got with him. he did care when sukuna took you on dates and told you how much he loved you.
ex-bestfriend!satoru did care when sukuna told you that you couldn't be friends with satoru and suguru anymore. he cared when he saw your energy-depleted face around town
ex-bestfriend!satoru did care when sukuna forced you to stay in the house at all times. he cared when you texted him and told him that sukuna was drunk and you were scared he'd hit you.
bestfriend!satoru did care when he bursted into your apartment beating the shit out of sukuna. he cared when he saw your shaking body hiding in your closet.
bestfriend!satoru did care when you told him you loved him and he couldn't deny he still loved you after everything the two of you had been through.
#kamospeach#peachy#peachywritez#mspeach#mzpeach#dividers by cafekitsune#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanart#gojo x you#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk satoru#jujutsu satoru#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#satoru x oc#satoru x black reader#satoru x black y/n#gojo x black reader#gojo x black y/n#gojo
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Free my girl, she did all those things but she's 27!!!!
#i fear some of you are in for a shock when you reach your late 20's early 30's......#mary winchester
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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||
A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?
You weren't one for dreams of destiny.
The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.
But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.
You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.
The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.
His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.
"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."
Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.
"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."
His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.
"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.
"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."
Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.
Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.
You were absolutely perfect.
And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.
"Do you know what I am?"
You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."
"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"
You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.
"No," you decide on hesitantly.
"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."
His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.
"In this future, I am with you."
All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.
"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.
"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."
"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"
His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.
"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"
The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.
But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.
"That's unfair."
"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."
You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.
"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."
You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.
"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."
Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.
"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."
Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.
When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.
"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.
⊹⊹⊹
From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.
The first step has been made.
══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════
#paul atreides x reader#paul atreides x you#paul atredies x reader#paul atreides imagine#dune part 2#dune#dune 2#dune x reader#dune x you#dune fanfiction#dune fandom#dune imagine#dune 2024#dune part two#dune movie#timothee x reader#timothee imagine#timothee fanfic#lisan al gaib#paul atreides#house atreides#paul atriedes#x fem reader
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⭑ Better when you're here ⭑
Masterlist
Pairing: Sad!king!aegon x sister!reader
A/N: #needthat
Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, pure filth, aegon whines so much I lost count, heavy mommy kink, sub aegon, fingering, piv sex, slight handjob, titty sucking (yes again), sad aegon.
Summary: Sad and needy Aegon just needs mummy to make him feel better :((((
Word count: 2.2k (pretty short blurb)
The gardens were your favourite place in the Red Keep, it was often quiet. And not to mention the beautiful view of the sea. You sat at one of the table’s in an alcove, it was nice and tucked away, giving you your own private space.
You read some book for a while and enjoyed your wine and lemoncakes. Because you never knew when it would be the last time you could sit here. You had been of age for two years now, and even though you have avoided marriage for quite a while, you never knew what your grandsire Otto Hightower had in mind.
Now you had at least some security since your eldest brother Aegon was now king and everyone was distracted by the war that loomed over Westeros like a black cloud. Only a few more drops of rain to form before the whole thing came crashing down.
Frustration and anxiety filled everyone's hearts and it was hard to pretend nothing was wrong. But the person you feared most right now was Aemond, he seemed to lose control everyday and he shocked the realm when he killed his own fourteen year old nephew at Storm’s End. However he was now to marry too, to some Baratheon girl and you knew that soon they would use you too, to make alliances with houses. Binded by a meaningless marriage.
You felt like it was all you were good for, and you saw how it affected Helaena and Aegon. Your heart broke for her, she wanted nothing more than to be left alone and live in peace, yet she must be queen. Aegon was of course also affected by this, ever since he became king he drank more than ever before and had even grown a bit of a belly. Still he remained of a nice physique.
You couldn’t even remember the last time you rode your dragons with him. He didn’t have much of a relationship with Helaena, seeing her more as his quiet sister than his wife and queen and for some reason it seemed better that way. She would be left alone more.
But you and Aegon were a different story, you liked to sneak around and have fun with him. He might not be a great king or a good man but he was a good brother to you. And you saw things in him that no one else seemed to. The crown seemed to only stress him out and you knew that he just wanted to live out his days drinking wine and relaxing but your mother and grandsire had other plans.
As of late you couldn’t see him much, council meetings took a great part of the day and he would always hide in his chambers afterwards. Your mother seemed to keep you away from him, for what reason you didn’t know. Your days went from watching Aemond train, flying around KIng’s Landing with Aegon and running around the Red Keep with friends to praying at the Sept, locked inside your chamber or helping Helaena with embroidery. That is why the gardens offered a nice escape.
Soon you would pay a visit to your elder sister and her twins. After a morning at the sept with your mother and sister you needed some alone time. But Helaena was always a calming and nice presence and it was good to keep her company.
After reading the last sentence of a chapter you closed the book, and decided it would be nice to sow with Helaena. As you walked through the halls of the red keep numerous ‘your grace’ and ‘princes’ surrounded you, staff getting out of your way. You ascended the stairs in the throne room, it was empty. Soon it would be supper time but there was enough time.
When you reached Helaena’s door you could already hear your niece and nephew playing, which put a smile on your face. You knocked twice and a handmaiden opened, letting you inside. Helaena was sitting on some blankets and pillows, already embroidering what looked like a blanket. She looked up and slightly smiled when you joined her side, children playing on their own blanket.
Getting handed some thread, a needle and a new fabric, as was the routine, you began to work on something for Aegon and if you worked hard enough you could bring it to him tonight. When you were about finished, a servant came in to fetch you and Helaena for supper with the family.
But when you arrived only Aemond, Alicent and Otto were there, Aegon’s seat was empty. Silently you both joined them and began eating without him. Supper was tense and silent as it had been for about a month now. When you had finished, you excused yourself and fetched the doublet you had finished before supper, wanting to bring a gift to your brother.
When you had fetched it you hurriedly made your way up to the king's bedchambers, you knew something was wrong with Aegon, all the stress had probably gotten to him. When you had almost reached the door Ser Criston Cole stood guard there. He bowed his head before he spoke; “Princess, the king does not wish to be disturbed right now.” He said politely.
“I understand, but I have something to cheer him up, so please, let me enter.” Ser Criston seemed to think about it, before releasing a sigh and opening the door for you, very softly as to not disturb his grace. You stepped inside and Cole just as softly as he opened the door, closed it again. It was now dark and Aegon’s fire was lit as he sat in a chair in front of it, you could hear the sobs coming from him. It broke your heart.
You quietly made your way towards him. “Aegon?” You called out. He didn’t lift his head. You walked around him so you were standing in front of him, he looked up with red stained cheeks, and red, tear filled eyes. “Oh Aeg- what happened?” You asked him, instead of answering he buried his head into your stomach, his hand gripping your dress as he sobbed into it. The doublet falling on the ground.
You caressed his messy short silver locks and he continued to sob for a while, in your embrace. Then he seemed to speak up; “They- don’t care about- me-” He choked against you in between sobs. “Who doesn’t care about you?” You were confused but he lifted his head from your now tear stained dress. “The- the- council- mother- my own hand- they don’t- care-!” He sobbed as he looked at you desperately.
But to your surprise he pulled you in his lap as his hands were still clinging to your dress. You gasped as you landed on his thighs, he buried his face in your chest instead and continued to cry, the doublet on the ground, forgotten. “Aegon they do care, especially mother, they just want the best for you. To help guide you since they have knowledge of war-” “No! They all hate me- everyone of them!” His breath on your skin gave you goosebumps. His hand now rested on your hip, keeping you in place.
“You’re the only one who loves me- I see that now- my beautiful smart sister.” He seemed to have exhausted his tears as they now stopped, he breathed heavily against your chest, nuzzling his face against your breasts. He must have had wine. “You love me? Right sister?” He mumbled against your breasts. “Of course I do, so incredibly much. I would do anything for you.” You soothed him, hand still grazing through his silver locks. His purple eyes stared up at you and he smiled slightly.
“Anything?” He asked softly. “Of course, you are not only my brother but my king.” You smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead. This stirred something in him and he breathed heavier again. His face and especially his nose grazed your neck and jaw, lips ghosting over the warm skin. Your own breath hitched in your throat at the feeling. “Aeg-” He ignored you and started to kiss and nip at the soft skin. You lightly gasped at the feeling, and then you felt something hard against your thigh.
“Brother I don’t think we should-” He stopped and looked at you with teary eyes. “I need this- I need you. Please- just- just let me make you feel good. To thank you. Please mummy.” That last part was whined against your chest where he let his hand graze the low neckline of your dress. Since it was warm earlier, it was quite thin and loose. Your body felt hot at his words, your lower stomach filled with an ache you didn’t understand.
His hand started then at the bottom of your leg, underneath your dress, as he caressed your leg moving up and up where you didn’t know you needed him. “I’m so hard for you mummy. All because of you.” He whined. His hand had finally reached your core, two of his fingers rubbing over your smallclothes, which were already wet with your slick. “Aegon-” You moaned, sparks went off in your body at his touch, you had no idea what he was doing to you but seven hells did it feel good. You hoped he would never stop, but still it felt wrong and guilt consumed you. Yet you didn’t stop him.
His other hand that didn’t tease your clothed clit was still busy with your neckline. The dress was loose enough for him to pull it down so your tits would fall out. He wasted no time in sucking on them. The feeling of his warm wet tongue sucking on your nipple made you release a moan. It felt way too good, it had to be a sin. Aegon himself moaned around your breast, bucking his hips up in need for friction. All your will to stop him had left you. Desire clouding your mind. You moved so that both of your legs were now on either side of his lap, the chair was big and comfortable enough to allow this.
Aegon released your nipple but never moved his hand from teasing you. But when you sat down, his hand trapped, he removed it and pulled at your dress, eager to remove it. You didn’t know why you did it, but you needed him. You helped him remove your dress and shimmied out of your small clothes as well. “Need to be inside you mummy.” You gasped at his fingers sliding through your now bare slit. His fingers then stimulating your clit. Your breath hitched when he put a finger inside you, going deeper until he found that spot that would make you see stars. He stretched you out a bit for a while until he got too impatient and grabbed your hand to place between you, over his bulge.
You instinctively squeezed it making him gasp. He moved your hand and quickly undid his breeches himself. He then reached for your hand again and helped you stroke his thick veiny cock. Pre cum started to dribble out over both your hands. And Aegon groaned at the sight. When he was almost about to cum for your hand alone, he removed it, as he did, he removed his fingers inside your cunt as well. Grabbing your hips instead, his cock was so hard it hurt and the feeling of his tip hitting your warm slick entrance almost made him cry out. He used one hand to guide his cock better inside you and you winced in pain. “It’ll be better soon, I promise.” He said softly.
You whispered okay and he buried himself deeper inside until he was fully sheathed inside you. Your clit hit his pelvic bone and a bolt of pleasure shot through you. You felt so sensitive and weak. When you felt like the pain went away you slowly started to grind and bounce on his cock, testing the waters. He whimpered in response, it just felt so good for him. He held on to your hips so you could start a steady rhythm and he knew he wouldn't last long. “So tight mummy- feels so good.” He sobbed. Squelching and slapping noises filled the room and you both forgot all about a certain guard outside.
Both of your moans filled each other's mouths as you held on tight to each other. Lost in pleasure you chase your release and started riding him faster, Aegon started to fuck up into you in response chasing his own high. “Mummy- I-I’m close- please- gonna fill you so good.” Aegon whined. This only spurred you on and soon you clenched down on his cock, fire striking through you, you had never felt such insane pleasure in your life. Aegon did not stop fucking into you though and only moments later he cried out as his warm seed filled you. He squeezed you against him tightly to hold you in place.
He came so much it started to drip out along his shaft, onto his balls and some drops even landed on the floor. You both caught your breath and Aegon didn’t let go of you. But after a few moments his grip loosened and you winced when his softening cock left you. He whined at your warm body getting up but you soothed him, just getting the rest of his clothes off and helping him to the bed. You laid down as well and he immediately crawled up against your chest. “Thank you mummy.”
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd smut#aegon x reader#aegon ii targaryen x reader#someone stop me from writing for these silver haired men#aegon targaryen x reader smut#aegon targaryen smut#aegon targaryen x reader#king aegon#sub aegon#aegon targaryen x fem reader smut#aegon targaryen x fem reader
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An Heir
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader
Summary: You and Feyd intend to be together forever--marry, have children, lead Giedi Prime side by side--but your plans are disrupted when the Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit reveals Lady Fenring is pregnant and, to Feyd's utter shock, the baby is his.
Notes/Warnings: This will be a two or three part fic (happy ending). Based on a request from @tgmreader. Implied sexual manipulation (assault), mention of pregnancy, feelings of betrayal.
Words: 2350
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list
Reader POV
A woman always knows when another woman is scheming. And you can practically smell it on her. She’s been working to draw him in for days, sneaking looks at him out of the corner of her eye; looks she makes sure he notices. She peers at him from under her blonde lashes like she holds a secret she’s willing to share with only him, and being a woman yourself, you know what kind of secret she is hinting at.
You just can’t decipher what she wants with him. Yes, he’s linked to power and that power will one day be his, but for now and for a long time to come, he is the na-Baron only. Compared to her, he’s still a boy in some respects, which makes you fear Feyd falling prey to the manipulation tactics you know she’s gained from her Bene Gesserit studies.
She’s mature, bewitchingly beautiful, she knows the ways of sex, of life, and she watches him in a manner that you’ve seen tug at some sort of string inside of him. With each day that has gone by, he’s seemingly grown more accepting of her sneaky advances. The seductive tone of her voice when she whispers words in his vicinity as she passes him, the subtle quirk of her red-painted lips, the sparkle she cleverly plants in her eye—he questions it less and less.
It’s not until you follow her the night of his birthday that you understand just how far she intends to go. You follow her following him, hiding from the bursts of light that fireworks outside are shooting through the windows. She’s a venomous beast in the shadows, the bright flashes illuminating the beauty she dons, a perfectly crafted mask.
As she trails after him, you observe her steps—her quiet, seductive advancements—that do not go undetected by Feyd. But she does not fear him, and she does not startle at the blade he holds to her throat once he’s tired of her games.
“You’re following me,” he says, and for a moment, you feel a sense of relief. He’s not entranced. He’s not so blinded by her wiles to be tricked. But then he releases her and says, “I dreamed about you last night,” and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach.
“A pleasant dream, I hope,” she replies.
Her voice is altered. Too smooth. An odd pitch. He follows this time, his head twitching as he tries to block out the words you know are slithering into his mind.
They continue through the hallways like master and pet until they’ve entered an unrecognizable wing of the Harkonnen fortress. Only once she disappears behind a door do you step out of the shadows. You’ll grab him, you think—take his arm and pull him away from the range of her influence so he will snap back to his senses—but he’s following her through that doorway before you can reach him.
She’s successfully lured him in, and you don’t know what to do. She can control you if she wants, have you slit your throat right in front of him if you make yourself known. And being under her spell, will he even notice that he’s losing you until it’s too late? Or will he stand there with a blank expression as your body drains of life?
You tiptoe to the entrance he had not fully closed behind him and peek through the sliver of space between the door and its frame.
With a gasp, your hand flies to your mouth. Tears pool in the corners of your eyes. Your eyelids beg to squeeze shut at the sight of him on his knees before her. And it’s then that you realize she has yet to use the full power of the Voice on him. Had she, you surely would’ve heard it. It’s a distinct sound, immediately identifiable.
Some part of him must want this—to be at her mercy.
Your chest caves as your knees begin to wobble. Your heart shatters.
He leans closer and you can’t watch anymore. You can’t watch their lips meet in a kiss he swore he would only ever give to you. So you take a step back, then another, and another, until you’re running.
—
Feyd POV
Feyd stands before them: three figures that, when concentrated in a dense grouping, mold into a formidable foe. The Baron, whose features are hard. The Reverend Mother, whose aged mouth is set in a frown detectable through her veiled headdress. And the Fenring Bene Gesserit, whose lips curve in a soft smile and eyes glance down at her feet every time he looks at her as if she’s some bashful girl untouched by man, which, given the circumstances, is far from true.
“It’s not mine!” Feyd snaps.
The Reverend Mother lets out an irritated huff—her third of the morning. “My Lord–”
“It’s not!”
Feyd turns his head to where you’ve been standing off to the side. He wants to see your face; he needs to reassure you that the information relayed in the last few minutes is nothing but sick lies, but you’re not there. He didn’t notice you leave. Did you sneak out? Did you run? Did your heels click on the floor with your retreating steps and his ears were too fuzzed from vile words to hear it? You’ve been avoiding him for days, but he didn’t expect such asinine chatter would get you to completely abandon him now. You’re smarter than to believe what they say, and you know him better than that.
“The child inside Lady Fenring belongs to you, my Lord na-Baron,” the Reverend Mother repeats, drawing Feyd’s burning gaze back to the trio. “That is a fact.”
His fists ball at his sides. “It’s impossible. I didn’t touch your witch.” And he never would have. He’s had other plans. Plans with you. He intends to marry you, to put his heir inside of you, and he wouldn’t have jeopardized that future for anyone, let alone a Bene Gesserit.
“Do you not recall the night of your birthday, my Lord?” Lady Fenring asks, her voice soft. “I was with you for hours.”
No. She’s wrong. He was with you, beside you, your warm, bare skin against his as the celebrations for his coming of age took place outside the walls. He was in the only place he ever chooses to be once darkness has descended upon the city. Not once has he strayed from the consistency of bringing you to his room under the noses of your parents and his uncle. And on that night barely three days ago, he’d fallen asleep with you in his arms after you were both spent. He remembers the lull of your soft breaths brushing his chest.
“Stop with your lies, you–”
Flashes invade his mind, almost painful as he tries and fails to shut them out. His eyelids pinch. His jaw ticks. The guest quarters are a blip of an image in his head. A body on top of his. Unfamiliar touch. Foreign moans. A scent that isn’t yours.
As the fogginess fades, Feyd shakes his head. No. He didn’t. He couldn’t. Not to you.
“I would’ve thought the time we spent together would be worth remembering,” Lady Margot says.
“You got in my head,” he grits out through clenched teeth.
“It matters not!” the Reverend Mother snaps. “The child is yours and it must be legitimized. Once Lady Fenring gives birth, you will wed.”
—
Reader POV - Three Months Later
You’re disappointed.
You’d spent days preparing yourself for what was to come—hours upon hours of strengthening your resolve by talking yourself through every possible scenario—and yet, as you step off of your family’s ship onto Giedi Prime soil, you must begrudgingly accept that it was all for naught.
Touching the ground is like touching him. What belongs to him is a part of him, and you sense his presence in every grain of white sand under your shoes.
Your heart jackrabbits in your chest, pressing against the cage of your ribs. If it could free itself, you wonder in which direction it would leap: back to the ship, ready to return to the protection of your home planet? Or toward the fortress, toward him. You wonder if his hands would be willing to catch it, brush it free of dust and grime and keep it close to his. But there’s no way to know until you’re in front of him. You lost the right to expect him to cradle your most precious organ when you left him without explanation, before he could level you with excuses for what he had done.
Noticing your absence from their sides, your parents pause and turn back to face you.
“Have you frozen, dear?” your mother asks with a chuckle. “You don’t appear to be breathing.”
She glances at your father, whose brows raise and lips curve into a lopsided smile. Your mother loves that smile. It’s one of the qualities she finds so endearing about your father. The first time he smiled that smile, she claimed it soothed her nerves over the arrangement your grandparents made for her future as his wife. And you know that feeling, that sense of calm; the safety of a lover’s company.
Your body aches as the memories of Feyd settle onto your shoulders. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, the way he kissed you, held you, moaned your name—all unique to him. They are what persuaded you to open your body, allowing him to wrap a hand around your love and hoard it for himself. And it pains you to know that if he has chosen to let it go, if he no longer cares for it, your love will never be the same. It will not make its way back to you. It will not heal. Like your rejected heart, your love will lie at his feet, shriveled and abused and begging for his attention.
“Come now, we don’t want to keep the Houses waiting,” your father says.
Your eyes are sandpaper. You blink. Damn the Houses. The frequency of meetings, which once seemed reasonable considering they afforded you and Feyd more time together, now feels like a nuisance; torture. There is no logical reason why every House member must be in attendance. Your being here changes nothing of the outcomes of negotiations and thinly veiled threats.
Your mother grabs your hand. “Come,” she demands, towing you toward the aura of darkness.
You flinch as you enter through the doors. You’ve been predicting that upon returning to this place, you would have to fight the urge to cower into a corner, but as your eyes scan the fortress’s interior, all you can think is: home. Black walls and cold floors and hovering orbs of harsh light—a comfort that unexpectedly welcomes you as a former lover rather than rejects you as a traitor.
Guards lead you further into the fortress toward a familiar room. You’re the first family to arrive—so much for making people wait—and you run your palm across the metal table in the center of the room. How many times have you sat at this table, imagining the rest of your life? Teasing one another? How many times has he taken you on it? As Lords and Ladies join your family, you find it best not to think about it.
You settle into a seat beside your father and, like everyone else, patiently wait for a machine to bring the Baron into the room. As he arrives, so do his nephews.
You stop breathing.
Feyd’s eyes scan the space until they find you, and though you plead with yourself to look away, you can’t. He’s a force outside of nature. A magnetic presence much too alluring for your willpower to resist. And the longer he looks at you, the quicker the protective shell you’ve worked to build up chips away.
He chooses to sit across from you rather than by his uncle. Not a seat he was meant to take, but no one argues.
The Baron talks. Feyd stares. Your body heats.
Eventually, you find a shred of strength and use it to rip your eyes away from his, but it doesn’t stop the ghostly caress of his gaze. What is he thinking? He doesn’t appear to hate you, but appearances can be deceiving. He’s capable of tamping down his emotions in front of others. There’s no telling what he would do should he get you alone, but you’re determined not to let that happen. You have no reason to be alone with him. He’s not yours. You’re not his. And people who do not belong to one another do not need to spend time secluded from others.
You remind yourself of that many times over the duration of the meeting, repeating the words in your head until they’re at their barest bones. You’re not his, he’s not yours, never be alone together. Not his, not yours, never alone. Never alone. Never.
But the harder you push, the more you want it; the more you want to drag him away, put your mouth on his, bite him, feast on his skin, swallow the groans you know you can pull from this throat.
Fuck.
You need to get away from him.
You fidget with your fingers under the table, praying for the seconds to tick faster. Each one passes as if trying to outlast the one before it, and it’s sending you into a spiral of anxiety. Blurry vision, rushing blood, dry throat that’s beginning to overpower your ability to sit silently and still as you are meant to.
But then, by some miracle, you’re granted mercy. The Baron dismisses the meeting, and you’ve never been more relieved in your life. A chance to escape. To breathe. You rise so quickly that your chair nearly flips over.
And then you realize your mistake.
Feyd’s eyes drop to your stomach.
You swallow hard.
A flutter fills your belly from the baby’s kick.
---
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please let me know! It makes my day <3 Also, let me know if you wanna be tagged for the next part.
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doctor's orders ₊˚⊹♡ - franco colapinto
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summary: as if your hospital placement hasn't been stressful enough, you're thrown a new challenge - an injured biker, and his big mouth w/c: 1.7k words
a/n: u ever see a man so beautiful that you just want to patch up all his injuries and kiss him on the forehead and tell him it'll all be okay? ( ALSO LOOK I WAS PLANNING ON POSTING THIS BEFORE I FOUND OUT ABT ALL THE DRAMA BUT ITS TOO LATE NOW SO HERE WE ARE ENJOY THIS ANYWAYS SDJFKS)
"Sorry, but am I in the right place?"
If it weren't for his half-torn jacket and pleading eyes, you might've punched him in the face out of frustration right there and then. You just didn't have time for this, not now, when the emergency room was as full as ever and you were rushing back and forth making sure everything was under wraps. You weren't sure why - you were only a nursing student after all, but your advisor had said something about "real world experience" before slinking away for his lunch break, over an hour ago. Leaving you here to deal with this chaos. And now, a very good-looking man with some very bad-looking injuries.
"Yeah, please just have a seat and fill out this form, I'll be with you in a minute sir," you rattle off your pre-practised phrases hurriedly, shoving a clipboard into his arms and pacing off somewhere else. Behind you, you hear the shuffling of his boots as he returns to his chair in the waiting room, the one next to him occupied by his helmet.
It's a while before you talk to him again, at least half an hour, but the way he talks to you definitely doesn't reflect the time he's been waiting - or the amount of pain you're assuming he's in.
“Hello,” you pause, scanning the form he’s filled out with his details for a name, “Franco.”
“Hello Doc,” he smiles at you atop the hospital bed you’ve got him sitting on.
“Biking injury?”
“Yes ma’am,” he gestures to his helmet and scuffed racing jacket that are piled on the stool in the corner.
“How bad?”
“Not that bad, you should see the other guy,” he jokes, and even though it’s corny you offer an amused smile.
“Right, okay then Franco, I’m going to have you take off your shirt.” When you look up from your clipboard, he’s posed comedically with his hands over his chest, donning a shocked expression.
“Woah, so forward doctor! At least take me out to dinner first.”
“I need to see your injuries,” you sigh, and he only offers you a sly smile as he hops off the bed to do as you say.
As a nursing student, you’d definitely seen your fair share of gross things - one only needed to look back to you lesson on pressure injuries to see that. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the gory mess that revealed itself as he peeled off his shirt, which was already caked with dried blood.
“Holy-“ you start, before stopping yourself in the name of professionalism - but it’s too late and he whips his head around with a concerned look.
“What? Bad?”
“Some would say so,” you try to steady your voice and sound as convincing as possible, already setting aside your clipboard to gather the things you need. You’re not sue if you should be doing this, or whether you even have the qualifications to - but you’re pretty sure waiting any longer might put him in danger.
You pat the top of the bed to signal for him to sit on it again. “I need you to stay still for me, okay?” you say in the softest, most comforting tone you can manage.
He nods and does as you say, and for the first time in the somewhat short period you’ve known him, his mask of confidence slips - revealing a slight vulnerability, and even a hint of fear.
“It’s going to be okay, I’ll be quick,” you continue to reassure him, and he nods again. “This is going to sting a little though,” you warn as you reach into your side tray for a cotton pad soaked in iodine. Touching it gently to the smallest of his cuts, he lets out a hiss of pain, his back straightening up as he jerks away.
“Sorry,” you mumble, though you continue to dab at his wounds. “Do you want to tell me how this happened?” You’re hoping the conversation will at least distract him as you work, or at the very least give you some information to fill his file with. But he only shakes his head reluctantly.
“Aright then, what should we talk about?”
There’s a beat of silence before he responds. “You?”
“Well, who’s the forward one now,” you joke, though the weak laugh he lets out tells you he’s far from kidding. If he were any other patient, in any other situation, you’d be prepared to refuse this request as per hospital guidelines. But from the shaky tone in his voice and the sight of his injuries, you can tell just how much he needs this - and so you oblige.
“What do you want to know?”
“Let’s start with,” he pauses to let out a pained groan as you continue cleaning his wounds, “your name?”
With one hand holding the cotton ball to his back, you lift the other to tug the lanyard holding your student ID off your neck and into his line of sight.
“Nice photo,” he laughs as he takes it, pointing out your less-than-flattering headshot.
“Don’t,” you threaten, though you feel comforted at the sound of his laughter, a more genuine one this time.
“It doesn’t do you justice, you’re a lot better looking in real life.”
“Alright, remind me to check you for a concussion later as well.”
“No, I’m being serious!”
“Just be quiet will you,” you huff, and he does as you say - giving you time to toss away the soaked-through cotton balls and reach for your bandages.
“Student?” he pipes up again, eyes scanning your card.
“Yeah, I’m here on placement.”
“So you’re not a nurse?”
“Not yet.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t an actual doctor be doing this? Or at least, I don’t know, watching you?”
“It’s been really busy this afternoon so my supervisor is,” you pause, trying your best to come up with a sensible excuse, “helping other patients.
“Right,” he hums.
“Why, am I not doing good enough?”
“No I didn’t say that!” You let out a laugh at his defensive tone, and the way he whips around to look at you apologetically with round eyes.
“I’m kidding, though if you would feel more comfortable I can get you an older doctor.”
“No, definitely not! I like you,” he blurts out, and it’s clear he hasn’t thought his words completely through by the way he continues to ramble a second after. “I mean, you know, an older doctor would probably like give me a lecture on road safety or something,” he follows up. As he turns around you can see the slight red tinge at the tips of his ears, causing you to let out an amused hum in agreeable as you finish patching him up.
“Wait since you’re not a proper nurse yet,” he pipes up again a sly expression on his face, “do you still have to follow all the rules and things like that?”
“Well, yes, I’m basically working here,” you reply, a little concerned.
“So does that mean it’d be unprofessional for you to give me your number, you know since I’m your patient and everything?”
This is the first thing he’s said that’s managed to actually catch you off guard, and even years of medical school isn’t enough to help you come up with an answer. “Wh- well, anyways I’ve done the best I can but you have gotten knocked up pretty bad,” you say, opting to switch the topic, “so I’d probably recommend staying overnight just so we can keep an eye on you.”
You turn to pack up the equipment you haven’t used and grab his clipboard to make a couple notes. Behind you though, he lets out a pained groan - piquing your interest.
“Don’t worry, it’ll just be for one or two nights and we’ll try our best to make it as comfortable as possible.”
“I know doc, it’s just that-“ he starts, turning around to face you.
“Why, got a girlfriend to get home to?”
He lets out an amused scoff, “as if, I just have other things to get to.”
“Right, well,” you clear your throat, a little embarrassed at having made a wrong assumption, “we physically cannot let you go, not in this state - consider it doctor’s orders.”
He sighs again, though his tone is less annoyed now, and slightly more nervous. “I’ve just,” he pauses, searching for the right words, “I don’t know, hospitals kind of creep me out.”
You spin around, a newfound tenderness in your expression as you look at him, “Oh, I see.”
“I know it’s embarrassing, you know, since I’m a biker or whatever but-“
You take a couple steps closer to him, eyes scanning over his bare chest and up to his right collarbone which dons a thick scar which you can tell is from a surgery a long time ago. You gesture to it with a gloved hand, “That got anything to do with it?”
His expression turns a little shy as his hand comes up to feel at what you’re taking about, “partially.”
“Don’t worry, they used to freak me out too but, I-, we, will make sure it’s as comfortable for you as possible.” He still looks a little reluctant but slips his shirt back on and heads to grab his things. The two of you walk out of the emergency room and out into the hallway. The hospital seems to have quietened down a little, the chaos from earlier being replaced by a sort of serene quiet as patients and doctors shuffle around. The two of you make your way up to the inpatient unit, where you manage to find Franco his own room for the night.
“Plus, this way we’ll have plenty of time for you to fill me in on the details of how you ended up like this, and maybe how you got that lovely scar if I’m lucky enough.” You say as you gesture for him to go inside the room that’ll house him for the next day or so.
“And if I’m lucky enough, maybe time to talk you into giving me your number,” he laughs as he sits down on the bed.
You shake your head as you let out a soft laugh, already walking out of the room, “Goodnight Franco.”
“See you tomorrow, Doc.”
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#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto oneshot#williams racing#williams f1#formula one fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one fluff#formula one#purinfelix#jet writes ★
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⊹ ₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ Late night talks ₊︶꒷꒦︶
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Pairing: Batman x reader / Bruce Wayne x reader.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Summary: After accidentally mistaking Batman as a criminal and spraying him with pepper spray, you both have seemed to form a friendship.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Warnings: Pepper spray, mention of Gotham being dangerous.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Word count: 1.5k
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
[ Masterlist ]
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Bruce has no idea how he got himself into this situation. Or rather... This habit.
It all started on that faithful night.
Walking alone at night in Gotham was like an one way ticket to heaven. A death wish, as some may say.
You sighed, looking around anxiously as you tried to walk as fast as you could. Every flicker of the night light, every random sound was making you jump in terror. You were half convinced that this was going to be your last day on earth.
You were just about to walk past an alley when you saw a shadowy figure stand menacingly at the entrance. The lights were flickering as the lamp above seemed to be surviving off of the happiness of the citizens of Gotham. Obviously, there wasn't much life left in it.
Red alarms started to go off in your head as the figure slowly started to move towards you. The heavy sound of its boot hitting the ground, the sound of your quickened heartbeat, the sound of the pained hissed that left the shadowy figure- Wait... Pained hiss?
It was only then you realised that you had sprayed the shadowy figure, Batman, with the pepper spray you were clutching while walking.
You gasped, staring at Batman in shock. He was hissing at the sudden attack, one of his eye half opened as he stared directly at you.
'I am so dead.'
Your eyes were wide before you shakingly reached into your purse, pulling out a small water bottle as you handed it to him, "I am so sorry! I thought you were some... Some criminal! Oh my- Splash this in your eyes! I am so sorry!" Half of the words sounded like nonsense due to how fast you were speaking.
He reluctaningly grabbed the water, splashing some water into his eyes as the affect of the spray started to subdue.
For a minute or two, nobody said anything as you both just stared at each other.
"What are you doing outside at this hour?"
"I am so sorry!"
Both of you decided to speak at the same time, which made none of you understand what the other person said.
"Come again?"
"I didn't hear-"
And it happened again.
"Speak."
"I am sorry-"
And again.
Finally, Batman seemed to have enough of it as he just stared at you broodingly, making you shut your mouth from fear.
"Why are you out at such an hour?"
You paused at his question, looking at him sheepishly, "Uh... Nightshift..."
Your answer made him raise an eyebrow which you didn't see because of his mask, "You shouldn't walk alone in the streets of Gotham with only a pepper spray as a weapon."
You nodded, looking at the ground as you suddenly felt like a child getting scolded by your parent.
Batman sighed as he stared at your figure, he can't just let you walk around at such an hour. Especially when it looked like you had the survival skills of a limbless cockroach.
"I will walk you home. Lead the way."
And that's how everything started.
"You haven't been paying attention to what I have been yapping about, have you?" You deadpanned, staring at him as he spaced out.
This made Batman blink, coming out of his chain of thoughts as he stared at the bowl of cereal you passed to him.
"Eat."
He blinked again, glancing at you in slight confusion before he started to eat.
He doesn't remember how this became a... Thing. It started out as occasionally walking you home from your nightshifts, then it shifted to him being injured after a rather brutal fight with a criminal near your apartment complex which made you usher him to your house for some patching up and now it has become a habit of Batman to swing by your window every once in a while, whenever he knew you would be awake or knew you had a day off.
You have come out of your shell fully, and now he knows you as the sassy and playful girl he once saved instead of the scared and timided girl.
"Eat up! You look like you have been starving since the dark ages, Mr. Dark knight." He let out an amused grunt at your words, rolling his eyes as he ate the cereal.
It was a comical scene, having him sit in your kitchen in his Batsuit while you lectured him about his poor eating habits in your pastel night gown.
You were an amusing person, a dramatic display of playfulness and sarcasm was always expected from you. Batman has seemed to grow fond of you and your shared time spent together over the past few months as he found himself looking forward to these meet-ups.
He has heard it all, from how much you dislike your job to how much you loved visiting animal sanctuaries to how you once crashed your friend's bicycle into different objects all under 15 minutes.
All these little stories would make him smile slightly while he worked in his Batcave. Alfred has heard all about you as well, the butler seemed to have grown fond of you as well despite never meeting you.
He glanced at you, watching you move around the kitchen as you washed the dishes. A thought passed through his mind.
He could help you.
Imagining him, Batman, helping you wash the dishes in his Batsuit. That would certainly be something you would die laughing at.
He shook his head slightly at the thought, focusing on eating the cereal you had given him.
"So, when are you going to leave your shitty job?" That made you look at him, slightly taken aback by his sudden question.
"Oh... Um... When I find a job that pays the same or more...?"
There it was again. The same answer you always give him. At first, he used to get irritated by your answer but now he understands your point. He knows the financial struggle you have gone through as a child, which has made you very anxious about having no job. All his attempts to help you fell on deaf ears as you firmly stated that you do not want money from your struggling vigilante friend.
He still has no idea why you think he is a struggling vigilante.
Does he look broke to you?
He sighed, glancing at the clock as he saw what time it was. The sun was about to rise.
"Do you have a day-off tomorrow or another night shift?"
You looked up from the dishes, glancing at him, "I have a day-off."
He nodded, walking up the sink to wash his bowl as you stepped aside to make space for him.
This is starting to feel oddly domestic.
"You should head to bed then." This earned a giggle from you as you looked at him with an amused expression.
"Aww, are you worried about my health?" You cooed jokingly as you leaned against the counter.
"You work at odd hours. From 8 pm till 3:45 am, it has to be one of the most ridiculous work hours I have ever heard of." He mumbled, scrubbing the bowl as he pretended to be annoyed at your playful behaviour.
You hummed, nodding your head in agreement before a small yawn escaped you, making Batman give you a 'I told you so' look behind his mask.
"See? You should head to bed." He grumbled, drying the bowl before putting it in its place.
"Alright, alright, I'll head to bed. Just make sure that whenever you leave, you close the window." He nodded as he watched you walked towards your bedroom, stretching as you glanced back at him.
He still has no idea how this has become something so normal to both of you that you just let him stay in your house while you sleep and he knows exactly where the bowl goes in the cupboard.
Bruce sighed as he flipped through the documents and files of the new Wayne enterprise project, his eyes narrowed as the sunlight from outside was starting to bother him. He could almost feel a headache coming in.
It has been weeks since he last saw you, he has been busy with his duties as a vigilante and the owner of the Wayne enterprise to the point he could barely find the time to visit you. Thankfully, you have left your old job for good so he knows that you are at least not walking around the dangerous streets of Gotham at night.
But he still can't help but feel worried about your financial state, to the point that he has voiced it out to Alfred a few times.
He sighed again, glancing at the door as he heard a knock.
"Come in!"
His eyes widened as he stared as you walked in, his new secretary.
Suddenly, everything makes sense. Alfred suddenly pestering him to appoint a new secretary, Alfred going out of his way to personal find him a new secretary. Everything is starting to make sense.
'That cunning old man...'
#batman x reader#batman#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne imagine#batman imagine#batman x you#gotham#late night#dc universe#alfred pennyworth#dc robin#fluff#batman fluff#bruce wayne fluff#love#dc x reader#dark knight#battinson x reader#battinson#the dark knight#scarlet2007
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"Did the love affair maim you too?" | Part iv
Joel Miller x f!reader
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chapter summary: After almost losing you, Joel does everything he can to get you back.
w.c: 14k (idk why all chapters are this long, sorry this is a filler chapter)
warnings: angst, mentions of blood, feelings of cheating, reader cries a lot, miscommunication, fluff, and poorly written smut. No proofreading, sorry.
a/n: chapter four was supposed to be the last one but I keep writing many words. Thank you so much for the love you have shown to this story so far, you will finally see the light in this chapter, so much love for you. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌.
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
Joel’s heart hasn’t been beating this rapidly since that night.
Running desperately behind Tommy as they made their way back through the darkened woods, moving as quickly as they could while still being careful not to jostle you too much.
He could still feel the warmth of your skin irradiating his hands as the rest of the world around him felt distant, blurred by the sole focus on keeping you alive. Every breath you took, every faint whisper of your voice, was a reminder that you were still here, still fighting.
Tommy’s own fear was evident in the urgency of his movements. He kept glancing back at his older brother with you on his arms. The silence between the two of them felt heavy, filled with the unspoken dread of what might happen if they didn’t make it back to Jackson in time.
Tommy feared what might be the consequences for him if you wouldn’t make out alive of this.
The guilty.
The regret.
The madness.
The what if.
When the lights of Jackson came into view, Tommy felt like breathing again. Looking behind him, if he could see the same light on Joel’s face, he only saw his brother's fastness of pace.
As they approached the gates, Tommy called out to the guards, who quickly opened the gates for them, their faces showing shock and concern as they saw the state you were in.
Your clothes were dripping in blood, and Joel’s didn’t know if that was all yours at this time.
He was terrified.
“Get the infirmary ready!” Tommy shouted as they hurried through the gates, his voice commanding and urgent. The guards and townspeople quickly sprang into action, clearing a path and rushing ahead to prepare for your arrival.
Joel didn’t let go of you, even as they reached the infirmary. He carried you inside, his arms trembling from the effort but refusing to let go. Dr. Ramirez was already there, Maria with her, her face pale with worry as she saw you in that state.
“Get her on the table,” Dr. Ramirez instructed, moving quickly to clear the space as the other doctor joined her. Joel reluctantly laid you down, his hands hovering over you as if afraid to leave your side.
“We need space to work,” Dr. Ramirez said gently but firmly, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “You need to step back.”
Joel looked like he was about to argue, his eyes locked on your now pale face, but Tommy stepped in, guiding him away from the table. “Let them do their job, Joel,” he said quietly, his voice laced with his own anxiety. “They’ll take care of her.”
Joel stood there, his heart pounding as he watched the medics swarm around you, their hands moving swiftly as they assessed your injuries and began to save your life. He felt helpless, every instinct screaming at him to protect you, but all he could do was stand there and wait, praying that you would pull through.
Maria approached Joel, her face etched with concern. “She’s strong, Joel,” she said softly, trying to offer some comfort. “She’ll get through this.”
But Joel could only nod numbly, his eyes never leaving your still form as the medics worked to save your life. The weight of everything he had almost lost bore down on him, and all he could do was hope that it wasn’t too late.
In the midst of the chaos, as the medics worked quickly and urgently around you, you reached out with a trembling hand, searching for something familiar, something to anchor you in the middle of the pain and fear you felt. Your fingers brushed against Joel’s hand, and you gripped it tightly, as if holding on for dear life.
Joel’s breath caught in his throat as he felt your touch. He immediately clasped your hand in both of his, his grip firm yet gentle, like he was afraid to hurt you but even more afraid to let go.
“I’m here,” he whispered, leaning closer to you, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here, sunshine. I’m not going anywhere.”
The medics continued to work, their hands moving with practiced efficiency, but for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just you and Joel, connected by that small, desperate touch.
Your eyes fluttered open, just barely, and you looked up at him, your gaze clouded with pain. “Joel…”
“Shh, don’t talk,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a soothing motion. “Save your strength. Just keep holding on, okay?”
You nodded weakly, your grip on his hand tightening for a brief moment before your strength waned again. But you didn’t let go, and neither did he.
In that moment, as the medics fought to save your life, Joel realized just how deeply he cared for you. The thought of losing you was unbearable, and he silently vowed to do whatever it took to make sure you made it through this.
Tommy stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with a heavy heart, understanding the depth of his brother's feelings without a word being spoken. He placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder, offering silent support as they both stood vigil, waiting for the moment when the worst would pass and you could finally be safe again.
"Hold her hand," Dr. Ramirez instructed, knowing that the pain would be intense as she began to stitch your wound. "She’s going to need you to keep her grounded."
Joel didn’t need to be told twice. He tightened his grip on your hand, leaning in closer so you could feel his presence and hear his voice. "I’m right here," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You hold on to me, okay?"
You nodded weakly, your face pale and glistening with sweat. The pain was unbearable—a searing, white-hot agony that tore through your body as the doctor prepared to stitch the wound. You gritted your teeth, but as soon as the needle pierced your skin, a scream tore from your throat, raw and desperate.
Joel winced, his heart shattering at the sound of your pain, but he didn’t let go. He squeezed your hand tighter, his other hand brushing your hair back from your face in a comforting gesture. "I know it hurts, sunshine, I know," he murmured, his voice steady even though he was breaking inside. "But you’ve got to hold on. Just a little longer, okay?"
Dr. Ramirez worked quickly, her hands steady and sure as she stitched your wound, but the pain was relentless. Each stitch felt like fire, and you cried out again, your body writhing involuntarily on the table.
"Look at me," Joel urged, his voice a lifeline in the sea of pain. "Keep your eyes on me. I’m not letting go."
Your gaze found his, your eyes wide and filled with tears, but you focused on him—on the sound of his voice, on the feel of his hand in yours. It was the only thing that kept you from losing yourself in the agony.
"That’s it," he whispered, his thumb brushing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "You’re doing so good. Just a little bit longer, and this’ll all be over."
Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, the pain overwhelming, but you clung to his hand like a lifeline. His voice and his touch were the only things keeping you grounded, and you held on with everything you had.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor tied off the last stitch and stepped back, her expression one of relief. "We’re done," she said softly, wiping her hands on a towel. “We need to keep her wound from an infection.”
Joel let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did it, sunshine," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of pride and relief. "You’re going to be okay."
The pain was still there, a dull, throbbing ache, but as the worst of it began to ebb away, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. You managed a small, tired smile up at Joel, your eyes heavy with the need for rest.
"Stay with me," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Don’t leave me."
"Never," Joel promised, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m not going anywhere."
As the last stitch was secured, the intense pain began to subside, leaving you drained and trembling. The doctor stepped back, wiping her hands as she gave a nod of reassurance to Joel.
"You’re going to be alright," she said softly, her voice a gentle balm in the quiet room. "Get some rest now. You need it."
You felt the weight of exhaustion pulling you down, your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. The pain had dulled to a steady throb, and your body, finally allowed a reprieve, craved the relief of sleep.
"Stay with me," you whispered again, your voice barely above a murmur as you looked up at Joel. Your grip on his hand loosened, not out of fear, but out of sheer weariness.
"I’m right here," Joel replied, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned closer. "I’m not going anywhere, sunshine. You rest now."
You managed a faint smile, comforted by his presence, and let your eyes drift shut. The world around you began to fade, the sounds of the infirmary growing distant as sleep took hold.
Joel watched as your breathing slowed, your face relaxing into a peaceful expression. He kept his hand in yours, even as your grip slackened completely, his thumb gently brushing against your skin.
He stayed by your side, his own heart finally starting to calm, as he whispered, "I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go. Never again."
Joel sat by your side, his fingers gently brushing the strands of hair away from your face. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as if he were afraid you might break under his hands. He watched your chest rise and fall with each breath, the steady rhythm a small comfort after the chaos of the night.
His thumb traced the line of your jaw, his eyes never leaving your face. He took in every detail—the curve of your lips, the way your lashes rested softly against your cheeks, the slight furrow in your brow that lingered even in sleep. It was as if he were memorizing you, committing this moment to memory, a reminder that you were here, alive, and safe.
Lost in his thoughts, Joel didn’t hear Tommy approach until his brother’s voice broke through the silence.
“Joel,” Tommy said softly, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “You should get some rest. She’s gonna be fine. The doc said so.”
Joel didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on you. He knew Tommy was right, knew that he needed sleep, but the thought of leaving you, even for a moment, felt impossible.
“I can’t,” Joel finally murmured, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “I can’t leave her, Tommy. Not after everything…”
Tommy sighed, his heart aching for his brother. He could see the toll the night had taken on Joel—the worry etched into his face, the exhaustion weighing down his shoulders. He crouched down beside him, trying to meet Joel’s gaze.
“I know you’re scared,” Tommy said quietly. “But she’s strong. She made it through, and she’ll keep fighting. But you—you need to take care of yourself too, Joel. You can’t help her if you’re running on empty.”
Joel finally tore his eyes away from you, looking at Tommy with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I just… I can’t lose her, Tommy,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I could survive it.”
Tommy’s expression softened, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear. He squeezed his brother’s shoulder, offering a small, reassuring smile. “You won’t lose her, Joel. She’s not going anywhere. But you need to be strong for her, and that means getting some rest. I’ll stay here with her. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”
Joel hesitated, his gaze flickering back to you. The thought of leaving, even just to lie down, felt wrong. But he knew Tommy was right; he was barely holding on, and you needed him to be strong.
Joel shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "No, Tommy," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'm staying with her."
Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Joel's face stopped him. There was a quiet resolve in Joel's expression, a fierce protectiveness that Tommy knew all too well. He had seen it before, back when Joel would do anything to keep the people he cared about safe. And now, with you lying there so vulnerable, Tommy knew there was no convincing his brother to leave your side.
"Alright," Tommy finally said, his tone gentle. "But you need to rest too, Joel. Even just for a little while. I’ll be here, watching over both of you.”
Joel didn’t respond, his focus entirely on you as you slept. His thumb continued to trace soothing patterns on the back of your hand, grounding himself in the simple act of holding on to you. He could see the tension slowly easing from your features, the pain and exhaustion giving way to a deeper, more peaceful sleep.
Tommy sighed softly, pulling up a chair beside Joel. “I’ll stay right here,” he promised, his voice low. “You don’t have to worry about anything. We’re all here for you and for her.”
Joel nodded, acknowledging his brother’s presence, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. He couldn’t. The thought of closing his eyes, even for a second, felt impossible. What if you needed him? What if something happened while he wasn’t watching?
He didn’t want to miss a thing.
So he stayed, his hand never leaving yours, his eyes tracing the familiar contours of your face as if to reassure himself that you were still there, still breathing, still alive. The fear that had gripped him so tightly was still there, but it was tempered by the warmth of your hand in his, the steady rhythm of your breath, and the quiet strength that you always seemed to carry.
“Get some rest, Joel,” Tommy urged quietly, but Joel simply shook his head.
“I’m fine,” Joel murmured, though the exhaustion in his voice was evident. “I just need to be here.”
Tommy watched his brother for a moment, seeing the depth of love and fear in Joel’s eyes. He knew better than to push. Joel would rest when he was ready, and not a moment before. So, instead, Tommy settled into his chair, keeping watch alongside his brother, the two of them united in their silent vigil over you.
And as the hours passed, Joel remained by your side, his hand wrapped around yours, his gaze never wavering. Because in that moment, nothing mattered more to him than being there for you, making sure you knew that no matter what, he would always be there, holding on, and never letting go.
As the first light of dawn filtered through the small window of the infirmary, you slowly began to stir. The world around you was a haze, the remnants of pain and exhaustion still weighing heavily on your body. You blinked slowly, your vision clearing enough to make out the room around you.
It took you a moment to realize that Joel was there, his head resting on your chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. He was asleep; his face relaxed in a way that you hadn’t seen in a long time. The sight of him like this, vulnerable and close, brought a faint smile to your lips despite the weakness that still coursed through your body.
You tried to lift your hand to touch him, to reassure yourself that this moment was real, but even that small movement felt like too much. Your body was still recovering, every muscle aching, every breath a reminder of the ordeal you had been through.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and barely audible.
He didn’t stir at first, his breathing steady and deep, his exhaustion evident in the way he clung to you even in sleep. But as you tried again, your fingers brushing lightly against his hair, he began to wake, his body tensing as he slowly lifted his head.
His eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was nothing but relief in his expression, a flood of emotion that he couldn’t quite hide. He sat up quickly, his hand instinctively moving to check your bandages to make sure you were really okay.
“You’re awake,” he said softly, his voice thick with sleep and something deeper, something that made your heart ache.
You nodded weakly, your throat too dry to speak again. But your eyes said everything—how grateful you were that he was there, how much it meant to you to wake up and find him by your side.
Joel reached for a cup of water on the bedside table, carefully helping you take a few sips. “Easy,” he murmured, his touch gentle as he held the cup to your lips. “You need to take it slow.”
You did as he said, letting the cool water soothe your parched throat. When you had drunk enough, he set the cup aside and turned his full attention back to you, his hand resting on your shoulder as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” Joel said, his voice filled with regret. “I should have been awake when you needed me.”
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the weakness that still gripped you. “You were here, Joel,” you whispered.
Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with so much emotion that it almost overwhelmed you. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted quietly, his voice trembling. “But you’re here. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
You nodded again, your heart swelling with gratitude and something else, something deeper that you couldn’t quite put into words. You were too tired to say more, too weak to do anything but close your eyes and let the warmth of his presence wash over you.
As you drifted back into sleep, your eyes fluttering shut, Joel felt a jolt of fear surge through him. Your sudden stillness, the way your body relaxed completely, sent a wave of panic crashing over him. His heart pounded in his chest as he gently shook your shoulder, trying to wake you.
“Hey, hey, stay with me,” Joel urged, his voice thick with fear. “Don’t go to sleep again. What’s happening?”
He looked around frantically for someone, anyone, to help. His hands trembled as he touched your face, feeling the coolness of your skin. “Doc! Doc, get in here!” Joel’s voice was desperate, echoing through the infirmary as he called out for help.
Within moments, the doctor and a nurse rushed into the room, their expressions serious as they approached the bed. Joel reluctantly stepped back, his eyes never leaving your face, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
“What’s happening to her?” Joel demanded, his voice breaking with emotion as he watched the doctor check your pulse and examine your condition.
“She’s okay,” the doctor said calmly, sensing Joel’s distress. “Her body is just exhausted. She needs to rest. The sleep is a good sign—it means she’s healing.”
Joel’s heart rate started to slow, but the fear still clung to him, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. “But she just went limp,” he said, his voice still shaking. “I thought—”
The doctor placed a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. “I understand. It’s scary, but I promise you, she’s stable. Her body needs time to recover, and sleep is the best thing for her right now.”
Joel let out a shaky breath, his eyes returning to your sleeping form. He slowly sank back into the chair beside your bed, his hand instinctively reaching for yours again. The fear was still there, lurking in the back of his mind, but the doctor’s words gave him some comfort.
“Just make sure she’s okay,” Joel whispered, his voice barely audible as he watched you sleep. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not after everything that had happened.
The doctor nodded, giving Joel a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping back, leaving the room in the quiet of the early morning. The nurse adjusted your IV and checked your bandages, ensuring everything was in order before quietly exiting as well.
Joel stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours as he watched you breathe, each rise and fall of your chest a small comfort to him. He leaned back in his chair, exhaustion finally catching up to him, but he refused to let himself sleep again.
He couldn’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.
That was the last time you opened your eyes.
For the past three days you had been lost in a slumber, healing. Perhaps from the internal wounds you had to recover yet from, the tiredness from your body, the emotional exhaustion you had been through, not only during that night but from the day Joel had appeared in your life.
And he hadn’t left your side.
For the past three days he had been sitting next to you, terrified of not being there the moment you would open your eyes.
He had made you a promise; he would never leave you again. As controlling as it sounded, he was afraid of letting you out of his sight. He was terrified of you never waking up again.
But he was mostly terrified of not being able to love you and show you he meant it.
He meant those three words the night he had made love to you.
Of course, his memories had come back the moment you almost left earth, as a reminder, perhaps, of how good you were to him.
He thought of Sarah, of how it was her who saved you to give her dad a chance to become the sweet man he once was.
For him, for you, and for the sake of a story he wanted to write.
The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep out the harsh sunlight, allowing only a gentle glow to filter in. Joel sat by your bedside, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but unwilling to close. The past three days had been a blur—a mix of fear, hope, and unrelenting determination. He refused to let go of your hand, as if the physical connection would somehow anchor you to this world and keep you from slipping away.
Your breathing was steady, your face peaceful in sleep, but every time Joel looked at you, he was reminded of how close he had come to losing you. The thought of it made his heart clench.
For the past three days, he had been preparing for the moment you would open your eyes, knowing that when you did, everything would be different. He wanted to be ready, to be the man you deserved, to give you the love and life you both had been searching for.
So, he stayed by your side, his eyes never leaving you, waiting for the moment when you would wake up and see that he was there, just as he promised.
The quiet of the room was interrupted by the soft creak of the door as it opened. Joel’s attention snapped to the movement, his body instinctively tensing. When Lori stepped inside, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face visibly tightened.
Lori hesitated in the doorway, her eyes flickering between you and Joel. There was a hint of guilt in her expression and in the way she slipped into the room.
“Joel,” she began, her voice low, almost cautious.
Joel didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly stood up, his hand still holding yours, as if to remind both Lori and himself who he was protecting. His gaze was icy, his anger barely contained.
“What are you doing here?” Joel’s voice was cold, a sharp contrast to the warmth he had shown you moments before.
Lori shifted uncomfortably, clearly sensing the tension. “I came to check on her,” she said, trying to keep her tone steady. “I wanted to see how she’s doing.”
“She’s not your concern,” Joel snapped, his words laced with bitterness. “You’ve done enough.”
Lori flinched at his harshness, but she didn’t back down. “I know I messed up, Joel. But I’m not here to make excuses. I just… I just needed to see for myself that she’s okay.”
Joel’s eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t get to care now,” he said through gritted teeth. “You left her out there to die, Lori. You made your choice.”
Lori’s expression faltered, the guilt finally breaking through her resolve. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I can’t take back what I did. But I never wanted her to get hurt. I was just trying to protect everyone.”
“Protect?” Joel echoed, his voice rising in disbelief. “You call that protecting? You abandoned her. You put her life at risk to save your own skin. That’s not protecting. That’s cowardice.”
“Okay. You’re right. I wanted her death or out of our lives.” She said, clearly ashamed of her actions.
Joel’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as Lori's confession hung in the air. The raw truth of her words sent a wave of cold fury through him, so intense that for a moment he couldn’t speak. His grip on the edge of the bed tightened until his knuckles turned white.
"You wanted her dead or gone?" Joel’s voice was low, barely more than a growl. Each word was laced with disbelief and anger. “And you think that makes it better? That somehow, admitting it makes what you did okay?”
Lori couldn’t meet his gaze, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her shame. “No, it doesn’t. I was wrong, Joel. I see that now. I was selfish, and I let my fear get the better of me. But I never really wanted this—her lying there like this. I just didn’t know what to do.”
Joel stepped closer to her, his posture rigid with anger. “You didn’t know what to do, so you decided to let her die? Is that your excuse? She trusted you, Lori. We all did. And you betrayed her.”
Lori flinched as if his words had physically struck her. “I never wanted it to go this far,” she murmured, tears welling up in her eyes.
“If you wanted revenge for how I ended things between us, you could hurt me, not her. She had nothing to do with all this mess.” He said, voice cracking.
Lori's eyes widened as Joel's words sank in, the reality of her actions hitting her like a punch to the gut. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down her face as she looked at Joel, her expression a mixture of regret and sorrow.
"I wasn’t thinking straight, Joel," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I was angry, hurt, and I lashed out in the worst way possible. But I swear, I never meant for her to get caught up in this. I was just so blinded by my own pain… I couldn’t see past it."
Joel shook his head, his own emotions a storm raging just beneath the surface. "You don’t get to hide behind your pain, Lori. We all have our demons, but what you did—what you almost cost me—it’s unforgivable."
“I know,” Lori whispered, her voice thick with guilt. “I let my anger control me, and I ended up hurting the person you care about most. I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I needed to say it. I was wrong, and I’ll live with that for the rest of my life.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Sorry isn’t enough, Lori. Not for this. I almost lost her because of you. The only reason I’m standing here right now is because she fought like hell to survive. But what you did—" he broke off, his voice faltering as the weight of the situation threatened to overwhelm him.
Lori wiped at her tears, nodding slowly. "You’re right. There’s nothing I can say or do to fix this. But I want you to know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right, even if it means leaving Jackson. I can’t undo what I’ve done, but I can make sure it never happens again."
Joel stared at her, his heart aching with the knowledge that the person who had once been a close ally had become a source of such deep betrayal. Finally, he let out a long, weary sigh. "I don’t care what you do, Lori. Whether you stay or go, it doesn’t matter to me. Just… stay away from her. If you really want to make amends, you stay out of her life."
Lori nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat, turning and leaving the room, her footsteps echoing softly in the silence. Joel watched her go, his heart heavy with a mix of anger, sadness, and a deep, unshakeable fear of what might have happened if he hadn’t found you in time.
As the door clicked shut, Joel’s gaze returned to you, lying so still and fragile in the bed. The anger that had fueled him moments ago began to fade, replaced by an overwhelming need to protect you, to never let anything come between you again.
He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek. "I’m still here, sunshine," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "And I’m not going anywhere.”
A few minute later, Dr. Ramirez entered the room quietly, her presence calm and reassuring. She approached the bedside with practiced ease, her eyes quickly scanning your vitals before she looked over at Joel. His hand was still resting on your cheek, and he didn’t move as the doctor began her examination.
"She’s stable," Dr. Ramirez said softly after a moment, her tone measured but gentle. "The worst is behind her now. But she needs time, Joel.
Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. "She’s been through hell," he muttered, his voice rough with the strain of the last few days. "I just… I just want her to wake up, to be okay."
Dr. Ramirez paused, her gaze softening as she looked at him. "I understand how hard this is for you. But you need to take care of yourself too, Joel. She’s going to need you when she wakes up, and you’ll be no good to her if you’re running on empty."
Joel finally tore his eyes away from you to meet Dr. Ramirez’s gaze. "I’m fine," he insisted, though the exhaustion etched into his features told a different story.
Dr. Ramirez sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "You’re not fine. You’ve been sitting here for days, barely eating or sleeping. She’s going to need you at your best, Joel. You can’t help her if you don’t take care of yourself."
Joel clenched his jaw, his gaze dropping back to you. "I can’t leave her," he said quietly, his voice laced with a deep-seated fear. "What if she wakes up and I’m not here? What if she needs me and I’m not…"
"She’s going to need you," Dr. Ramirez interrupted gently, "but she’s also going to need you strong. Trust me, Joel. We’ll take good care of her while you rest. Just a few hours, get something to eat, maybe sleep a little. It doesn’t mean you’re abandoning her."
Joel hesitated, torn between his overwhelming need to stay by your side and the doctor’s rational advice. Finally, he sighed, a long, weary exhale that seemed to deflate him. "Just a few hours," he agreed reluctantly. "But I’m not going far."
Dr. Ramirez gave him a small, understanding smile. "That’s all I’m asking. Go get some rest, Joel. She’ll be here when you get back, I promise."
Joel looked at you one last time, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I’ll be back soon," he whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination.
The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the sprawling landscape before you. The two of you had been out on patrol for hours, the silence between you heavy and tense, as it often was. Ever since Joel had been assigned as your partner, the air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You didn’t see eye to eye on much, and every patrol seemed like a test of patience.
But this time, something was different. Maybe it was the way the light hit the mountains in the distance, or the rare moment of peace that seemed to settle over the world, but you found yourself drawn to the view, momentarily forgetting the usual friction between you.
“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Joel. Your eyes were fixed on the horizon, the colors of the sunset reflecting in them, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Joel, who had been keeping watch as usual, turned his head slightly at the sound of your voice. He followed your gaze to the landscape, expecting to feel the same cold detachment he always did, the necessity to focus on the mission, on survival.
But when he looked, his eyes didn’t linger on the mountains or the sky. Instead, they stayed on you. The way the fading light caught in your hair, the way your expression softened as you took in the beauty of the scene.
“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice low and uncharacteristically gentle. For once, there was no edge to his tone, no underlying frustration or impatience. Just quiet, genuine agreement.
You turned to look at him, surprised to hear him agreeing with you for once. “Really?” you asked, a hint of skepticism in your voice. “You think so?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours for a moment longer than usual. “Yeah,” he repeated, his gaze steady, but there was something unspoken in his eyes, something that caught you off guard. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”
For a brief moment, the tension between you melted away, replaced by something warmer, something almost tender. It was fleeting, barely lasting more than a few heartbeats, but it was enough to make your chest tighten.
Joel quickly looked away, clearing his throat as if to dispel the moment. “We should get moving,” he muttered, his usual gruffness returning as he adjusted the strap on his rifle.
“Right,” you agreed, returning to the task at hand. But as you resumed your patrol, the moment lingered in the back of your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to Joel than you had thought.
Joel had been dreaming of you in his hours of sleep, the fleeting images pulling him into memories that felt too real. In his dreams, you weren’t lying in a bed, fighting to recover; you were beside him, alive and vibrant, with that same determined fire in your eyes that had always made him admire you, even when the two of you clashed.
In one dream, the two of you were back on patrol, your laughter echoing in the open air as you teased him about something trivial, your voice full of life. In another, you were at Jackson, sitting by the fireplace, your eyes locked onto his as you talked about your hopes for the future—a future he hadn’t dared to hope for until you came into his life.
But the dreams always ended the same way. You would start to fade, your voice growing distant, your figure slipping away from him no matter how hard he tried to hold on. He would reach out for you, only to find his arms empty, the warmth of your presence replaced by a cold, haunting emptiness.
And then, he would wake up, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes would immediately dart to you, lying so still in the bed, and he would lean in close, needing to hear the soft sound of your breathing to reassure himself that you were still with him.
The dreams left him feeling raw and exposed, the fear of losing you gnawing at him even in sleep. He couldn’t shake the image of you slipping away, couldn’t rid himself of the overwhelming sense of dread that had taken root in his heart.
Joel had been trying to shake off the remnants of his dreams as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, splashing cold water on his face. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to scrub away the exhaustion that clung to him. After three days of barely leaving your side, he had finally allowed himself a brief moment to freshen up, his mind still heavy with the images of his dreams.
The water did little to wash away the lingering fear, but he steeled himself, forcing his hands to stop trembling. He couldn’t afford to be weak now—not when you needed him to be strong. He dried his face, straightened his shirt, and took a deep breath before heading back to the infirmary.
As he approached the door, the sound of soft laughter reached his ears. It was Ellie’s voice, her words light and teasing, and he could hear you responding, your voice soft but undeniably awake. A small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. You were awake. You were okay.
But when he stepped into the room, his heart lifting at the sight of you, his smile faltered. Ellie was perched on the edge of your bed, animatedly talking about something, her hands moving in excited gestures. And you—you were smiling at her, a faint but genuine smile that lit up your face in a way he hadn’t seen in days.
For a moment, he just stood there, watching the two of you. The sight of you smiling, your eyes bright with life, should have filled him with relief. But when your eyes flickered up to meet his, the smile faded from your lips, replaced by an expression he couldn’t quite read.
The air between you shifted, the lightness that had been in the room moments ago dissipating as the tension settled in its place. Ellie, oblivious to the change, continued to talk, but Joel’s attention was locked on you, searching your face for any hint of what you were feeling.
He took a tentative step forward, his hand twitching at his side as if he wanted to reach out to you, but something held him back. The way your smile had disappeared, the way you looked at him now with that guarded expression—it made him hesitate.
“Hey,” he finally said, his voice rougher than he intended. He tried to soften it, to push past the wall that seemed to have sprung up between you in those few seconds. “You’re awake.”
Ellie, noticing the shift in the room, glanced between the two of you before quickly excusing herself. “I’ll let you guys talk,” she said, shooting you a small smile before slipping out of the room.
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving just the two of you in the room. The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating, and Joel struggled to find the right words to say.
“You’re looking better,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. He took another step closer, his eyes scanning your face for any sign that you were in pain. “How are you feeling?”
You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket covering you.
“Better,” you replied, your voice soft and devoid of the warmth he had just heard when you were talking to Ellie.
Joel felt a pang in his chest at the distance in your tone, the way you seemed to be pulling away from him even though you were right there in front of him. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that had opened up between you, but he didn’t know how.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, the words heavy with everything he hadn’t yet had the chance to say. But your reaction—or lack thereof—kept him from saying more.
You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the blanket in your lap, your hands still twisting the fabric. It was as if the connection between you had been severed, and Joel couldn’t figure out how to mend it.
He had spent three days by your side, terrified of losing you, and now that you were awake, he was faced with the fear that he had lost you in a different way. The warmth he had clung to, the hope he had nurtured while you were unconscious, now felt like it had been swept away by a cold, unrelenting storm.
"I'm sorry for what happened to you," Joel finally said, the words heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. He didn’t know what else to say, how to bridge the gap that had formed between you.
You looked up at him then, your eyes searching his, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of the connection you once had. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by something colder, something that made him feel as if the ground was slipping out from under him.
"No, you're not," you replied, your voice steady but edged with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. "You feel guilty."
Joel flinched at your words, but he couldn’t deny them. Guilt had been gnawing at him since the moment he had found you, bleeding and broken, on that floor. He had replayed every moment in his mind, every decision he had made, every step he had taken, wondering if there was something—anything—he could have done differently to prevent this.
"I do," he admitted, his voice raw. "I feel guilty because I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you. But I wasn’t, and you almost…"
He couldn’t finish the sentence, the thought of what could have happened too much to bear.
"But that’s not the same as being sorry," you said, your tone flat, as if you were trying to keep your emotions in check. "You’re not sorry that it happened; you’re just sorry that you feel this way."
Joel felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He had spent days agonizing over you, terrified of losing you, and now, faced with your coldness, he didn’t know what to do.
"I am sorry," he insisted, though even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t enough. It didn’t capture the depth of his regret, the overwhelming sorrow he felt for what you had gone through. "I’m sorry for all of it."
“I know what Lori was doing,” you continued, your voice steady but laced with pain. “She wanted me gone, and it’s because of something you caused.”
Joel felt the weight of his guilt press down on him even harder. He had suspected Lori’s intentions, had seen the tension between the two of you, but he hadn’t fully understood the depth of her animosity. Now, hearing it from you, he realized just how much he had failed to protect you—not just physically, but emotionally as well.
“I never wanted you to get caught up in that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I… I didn’t see how far she’d go. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t change what happened,” you replied, your eyes meeting his, filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. “I didn’t deserve to pay for your mistakes, Joel”
“Are you blaming me for this?” Joel asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and hurt. He didn’t want to let anger take over, but the disappointment and frustration were clear in his tone. He had come to terms with his own guilt, but hearing you lay the blame at his feet was like reopening a wound he thought he was beginning to heal.
You met his gaze, your eyes sharp with the pain of what you had endured. “I’m not blaming you for everything,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But I can’t ignore the fact that your choices put me in danger.
Joel’s expression softened, the weight of your words hitting him like a blow. He knew you were right, but hearing it from you, seeing the pain in your eyes, made it all the more real. “I never wanted you to get hurt,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “If I could take it all back, I would.”
“But you can’t,” you said, your voice firm despite the emotion in your eyes. “And now we’re here, dealing with the consequences.”
The room felt heavy with the tension between you, the silence stretching as both of you struggled to find the right words. Joel’s heart ached with the realization that no matter how much he wished he could go back and change things, the damage had been done.
“I didn’t deserve this, Joel,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of whatever you and Lori had going on. I was just… I was just trying to survive and help.”
Joel took a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to touch you, but he hesitated, unsure if you would welcome the gesture. “I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And I know it’s going to take time for you to feel safe again.”
You looked at him, your heart conflicted. The fear of being hurt again loomed large, but there was also a part of you that wanted to believe him, to trust that he could be the man he promised to be.
“I’m tired” you said finally, your voice softer now.
Joel’s heart clenched at your words. The weariness in your voice was palpable, not just from the physical toll of your injuries but from the emotional exhaustion that had been building for so long. He could see it in your eyes, the way they held a mixture of pain, fear, and uncertainty.
“I know you are,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m tired too.”
He wanted to close the distance between you, to offer some kind of comfort, but he knew that it wasn’t just physical closeness you needed. It was reassurance, a reason to believe that things could be different, that he could be different.
“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Joel continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were feeling. “But I’m here. I’ll stay right here, as long as you need just as I promise.”
You looked at him, feeling the weight of his words. There was a sincerity in his gaze that made your heart ache, but the fear of letting him in again, of being vulnerable, was still there, holding you back.
Just as you were about to respond, the door creaked open, and Tommy stepped into the room, his presence a stark contrast to the heavy conversation that had just taken place. He glanced between you and Joel, sensing the tension in the air. His usually easygoing demeanor was replaced by a look of concern.
“Hey,” Tommy said softly, his voice breaking the silence. “How are you holding up?”
You offered him a weak smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m… I’m okay,” you replied, though the truth was far more complicated.
Tommy nodded, his gaze shifting to Joel. There was a silent exchange between the two brothers, a shared understanding that didn’t need words. Tommy could see the toll the past few days had taken on both of you, and he knew how much Joel was struggling to keep it together.
“I thought I’d bring you some food,” Tommy said, holding up a thermos. “Figured you could be hungry.”
Joel managed a small, grateful smile, though the weight of your conversation still hung heavy in the room. “Thanks,” he murmured, taking the tray from Tommy’s outstretched hand.
Tommy lingered for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you. “If you need anything… anything at all, just let me know, alright?”
You nodded, appreciating the offer but feeling too drained to respond with more than a simple acknowledgment.
Tommy hesitated, as if he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure if it was his place. Finally, he clapped a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Take care of her,” he said quietly, the words carrying a deeper meaning than just a simple request.
Joel nodded, his grip tightening on the thermos. “I will,” he promised, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.
With one last look at you, Tommy turned and left the room, leaving you and Joel alone once more. The door closed softly behind him, and the silence that followed was almost deafening.
You glanced at Joel, the conflict in your heart still unresolved. His presence was both a comfort and a reminder of everything that had happened, of the pain you were still trying to process.
“Thank you” you managed to say, “For looking for me that night.”
Joel's eyes softened at your words, though the tension in his shoulders remained. He nodded, the weight of the moment heavy between you. "I’d do it again," he replied, his voice quiet but firm. "A thousand times over if I had to."
You looked down, your fingers nervously picking at the blanket draped over you. "I know I was angry," you admitted, the words coming out in a rush. "And I still am, but… I also know you saved my life. I don’t want to ignore that."
He stepped closer, hesitating for just a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You don’t have to thank me," he said gently. "I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t come for you. You mean too much to me."
His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in them, but they also reminded you of the complicated feelings you were still trying to untangle. "I’m just… trying to figure out how to move forward from here," you confessed, meeting his gaze.
Joel reached out, his hand hovering over yours for a moment before he finally took it, his grip warm and reassuring. “You know, I spent the last days beside you all the time, hoping to see your eyes opening again, I can wait a little bit more for you.” He said, smiling softly at you.
Joel's words were like a balm to the ache in your heart, the sincerity in his smile melting some of the walls you'd built around yourself. His hand, warm and steady around yours, was a reminder of the care and dedication he had towards you.
A few days later, you were finally released from the infirmary, but Dr. Ramirez had been clear about the need to rest and take things slow. Your body was still recovering, and any strenuous activity could set you back. Joel had been by your side when Dr. Ramirez gave the instructions, and you could feel his protective gaze on you the entire time, as if he was silently vowing to ensure you followed every word.
Back at your house in Jackson, the atmosphere was different. The air felt lighter, more relaxed, but there was also an unspoken tension between you and Joel. The words you had exchanged in the infirmary still lingered, and both of you were treading carefully, not wanting to disrupt the fragile peace that had settled.
As you settled into the couch, Joel was close by, hovering just enough to make sure you were comfortable but giving you space to breathe. His presence was comforting, yet it also reminded you of the complicated feelings you were still working through.
"Do you need anything?" Joel asked, his voice gentle as he watched you with concern.
You shook your head, offering him a small smile. "No, I’m okay. Just trying to adjust to being home again."
He nodded, his eyes softening as he took a seat on the chair across from you. "Take your time. You’ve been through a lot."
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with the weight of unspoken thoughts. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, as if he was searching for something, waiting for you to say what was on your mind.
Finally, you broke the silence. "Joel… about what I said before, about trying to figure things out…"
He leaned forward slightly, his attention fully on you. "You don’t have to explain, sunshine. I get it. You’ve got a lot to process."
You nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I do. But I want to ask you to do something.”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "What is it?"
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continued. "I want you to talk to Lori."
The moment her name left your lips, you saw Joel’s expression darken, his posture stiffening. "Talk to Lori? After everything she did to you? Why the hell would I do that?"
You could hear the defensiveness in his voice, the way his jaw clenched as if he was trying to hold back a torrent of emotions.
"Joel, please," you said, your voice calm but firm. "I need you to do this for me. I’m not asking you toy forgive her or make excuses for what she did. It’s about getting closure.”
His eyes searched yours, a storm of emotions swirling behind them. "Closure? How is talking to her going to give you closure? She nearly got you killed. I don’t want her anywhere near you."
You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. "I know you’re angry. I am too. But carrying this anger, this bitterness…but before you met me, she was the one you found- “
“It was nothing serious” he interrupted.
“Even if it was just that, Joel. She still deserves an apology from you.”
Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, the defensiveness in his posture only growing stronger. "An apology? After what she did to you, you want me to apologize to her?"
You nodded, your grip on his arm tightening slightly. "Yes, Joel. She made a terrible mistake, but that doesn’t change the fact that you hurt her too. She was in your life before I was, and even if it wasn’t serious, it clearly meant something to her. And when things ended between you two, it left her with feelings she didn’t know how to handle."
He looked away, his jaw clenching as he processed your words. "I never meant for any of this to happen," he muttered, the frustration evident in his voice.
"I know that," you replied softly. "But maybe that’s why it’s even more important that you talk to her. She made a mistake, a huge one, but she was reacting out of hurt and anger. And maybe, just maybe, hearing an apology from you could help her start to heal too."
Joel’s shoulders slumped, the fight seeming to drain out of him. He looked back at you, his expression conflicted. "I don’t know if I can do that," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "Apologizing… it feels like I’m excusing what she did, and I can’t do that."
Joel took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he nodded. "Alright," he finally said, his voice low. "I’ll talk to her. I’ll apologize. But I’m doing it for you, because I want to make things right with you."
You gave him a small, grateful smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Thank you, Joel. That’s all I’m asking."
He reached out, taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently. "I just hope this helps us find some peace," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of hope. "Because I don’t want to lose you."
Joel wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with Lori, but he knew it was necessary. As he approached her in the stables, where she was tending to the horses, he felt the weight of what you’d asked him to do pressing on his shoulders. The earthy scent of hay and the soft sounds of the horses moving around only added to the heaviness in his chest. He took a deep breath and walked over; his steps heavy with uncertainty.
“Lori,” he called out softly, causing her to look up from grooming a horse. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of emotions flickering across her face as she saw him.
“Joel,” she replied, setting the brush down. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to talk,” he said, his voice steady but laced with tension. “About everything that happened.”
Lori’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she was bracing herself for whatever he was about to say. “Go on, then.”
Joel hesitated for a moment before he spoke. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I know things between us ended badly, and I never meant for you to get hurt. What happened with her… it’s not all your fault. I had a part in it too.”
Lori’s expression softened, a look of surprise crossing her features. “You’re apologizing?” she asked, almost as if she couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah,” Joel admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I am. I messed up, and I didn’t see how much you were hurting until it was too late. I should have handled things better, and I’m sorry for the pain it caused you.”
Lori looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to gauge his sincerity. Finally, she let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “I appreciate that, Joel,” she said quietly. “I’ve been carrying a lot of anger, and maybe… maybe I was looking for someone to blame. But hearing you say this… it helps.”
Joel nodded, relieved that the conversation seemed to be going in a positive direction. “I just want to put all this behind us,” he said. “For everyone’s sake.”
Lori stepped closer, her expression softening further. “I want that too,” she murmured, reaching up to touch his arm. “And… I’m sorry too, for everything.”
Before Joel could react, Lori leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. But the kiss lingered, her lips brushing dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. He stiffened, pulling back slightly, but not before the moment had passed.
“Lori…” he started, his voice filled with warning, but his words were cut off as he saw something behind her.
You stood at the entrance to the stables, your expression one of disappointment and hurt. You hadn’t meant to interrupt, but you’d come looking for Joel, wanting to check in on how the conversation was going. Instead, you found yourself witnessing a moment that twisted the knife in your heart.
Joel immediately took a step back from Lori, his eyes wide with panic as he realized you had seen the kiss. “It’s not what it looks like,” he called out, his voice desperate to reach you.
But you turned on your heel and walked away, the sting of what you’d just seen too much to bear. You didn’t want to hear his explanation; the image of Lori’s lips so close to his was enough to leave you feeling betrayed.
Joel cursed under his breath, quickly following after you, but the damage was done.
Joel raced after you, his heart pounding as he tried to close the distance. “Wait, please!” he called out, his voice echoing through the quiet of the stables and beyond.
You didn’t slow down, your steps quick and determined as you headed for the path leading away from the stables. The pain of what you’d seen burned too fiercely for you to face him right now. The image of Lori’s kiss and the confusion it brought was overwhelming.
Joel caught up to you, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “Just… just let me explain,” he said, his breath coming in heavy gasps. “I didn’t want her to do that, I swear.”
You pulled your arm away from him, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Joel, I’m tired of the explanations,” you said, your voice shaky. “Every time I try to trust you, something happens that makes me question it all over again. I need time to sort through all this, but I can’t do that if I’m constantly reminded of why I shouldn’t trust you.”
Joel looked at you with desperation and hurt, his eyes pleading. “I know I messed up, but I’m trying here. I really am. I wanted to make things right with Lori as you asked me, so we could move on, but I didn’t expect—”
“Expect what?” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. “Expect her to still have feelings for you? Or expect that you’d have to be in her presence and make her feel like she has a chance? It’s all too much.”
You paused, your voice breaking as the weight of everything you’d been feeling crashed over you. “That woman is crazy… she tried to kill me and I’m… I’m just so tired of all this, Joel. I can’t… I can’t keep dealing with this.”
The tears that had been threatening to spill finally broke free, streaming down your face as you struggled to catch your breath. The emotional toll of the past few days had left you feeling utterly drained, and the sight of Joel and Lori together had pushed you to the edge.
Joel’s heart ached at the sight of you so distressed. Without a second thought, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation that spoke of his own heartache. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
“I want her to leave Jackson” you said.
Joel’s grip on you tightened at your words, his mind racing as he processed your request. “You want her to leave Jackson?” he repeated, his voice filled with surprise “I know things between us are… complicated right now, but asking her to leave—”
“It’s not about me,” you interrupted, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “It’s about feeling safe. I can’t be here, knowing she’s so close. I need to know she’s not a threat anymore to me or anyone else.”
Joel took a deep breath, the weight of your request pressing heavily on him. He understood the need for safety, for closure, but he also knew that asking Lori to leave Jackson would have its own set of consequences.
“I’ll talk to Tommy,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I’ll see what can be done. If it’s what you need to feel safe, then I’ll make it happen.”
Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt.
Joel nodded; his expression resolute. “I understand. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re not left with that fear. You deserve peace, and I’m going to make sure you get it.”
The community meeting took place in the main hall, a space that had seen its share of important decisions and discussions over the years. Joel and Tommy, along with other key figures in Jackson, gathered to address the situation with Lori.
The room was filled with a murmur of conversations as people took their seats. The atmosphere was tense, a mix of concern and frustration hanging in the air. Joel stood near the front; his expression serious as he prepared to present the situation.
“Alright, folks,” Tommy began, stepping up to the makeshift podium. “We’re here to discuss the situation with Lori and decide on the next steps. We’ve heard from Joel, and we all know what’s been going on.”
Joel took a deep breath and began speaking. “I know this is a difficult situation. Lori’s actions have put everyone in a tough spot, and I understand that emotions are running high. I’ve spoken with her, and she’s expressed remorse, but the fact remains that her actions have put someone we care about in danger.”
He paused, looking around at the gathered community. “I’m asking for your input on what should be done. I know this isn’t an easy decision, but we need to ensure the safety and well-being of everyone in Jackson.”
The room fell silent as people considered their options. Various community members began to speak up, each sharing their thoughts and concerns. Some were in favor of asking Lori to leave Jackson, citing the need for safety and closure. Others worried about the implications of such a decision, considering her past contributions to the community and the potential impact on morale.
After a series of discussions and arguments, the group came to a consensus. The final vote was cast, and the majority agreed that Lori would need to leave Jackson. This decision was based on the overwhelming need to ensure the safety of the community and to address the trauma caused by her actions.
As the meeting concluded, the decision was communicated to Lori. She was given a set amount of time to pack her belongings and prepare to leave. The community had made its choice, and while it wasn’t easy, it was necessary for the greater good.
Joel and Tommy left the meeting feeling a mix of relief and sadness. They knew it was a difficult decision, but one that had to be made for the sake of the community’s well-being and your peace of mind.
After the meeting, Joel went to find Lori. He found her packing her things in a small room, her movements mechanical as she sorted through her belongings. The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of her clothes and a few muffled sobs.
“Lori,” Joel said gently as he approached her.
Lori looked up, her face a mask of resignation and pain. “So, it’s really happening,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m leaving.”
Joel nodded; his expression somber. “Yeah. The community decided it was the best thing to do. I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but it’s what needed to happen.”
Lori’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just… I wanted to protect myself, and it spiraled out of control. I’m sorry.”
Joel sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “I know you’re sorry. And I understand why you acted the way you did, even if it was wrong. I just hope you can find a way to make things right for yourself.”
Lori gave a small, bitter laugh. “I don’t know if I can. But I guess I’ll have to try.”
Joel glanced around the room, unsure of what more to say. “If you need any help getting ready or finding somewhere to go, let me know. I don’t want to make this any harder than it has to be.”
Lori nodded, wiping her tears away. “Thank you, Joel. For everything.”
With a final look at Lori, Joel turned and walked away, his heart heavy. He found Tommy waiting outside the room, and together they made their way to the main area of Jackson.
As Joel walked through the community, he saw people going about their daily routines, the weight of the decision beginning to settle in. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. The decision to expel Lori had been necessary, but it left a lingering discomfort in the air.
When he finally found you, sitting in a quiet corner of the community center, he approached with a cautious but hopeful expression. “Hey,” he said softly, sitting down beside you. “I wanted to let you know that Lori’s getting ready to leave. It’s happening, just like we talked about.”
You looked at him, the strain of the past few days still evident in your eyes. “Okay,” you said quietly. “I just… I hope she can find peace or whatever she’s looking for.”
Joel reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “I hope so too. And I want you to know, no matter what happens, I’m here. We’ll get through this together.”
You stood up abruptly, your hand slipping from Joel’s grasp. “I promised Maria, I’d help her with something,” you said, your voice tinged with a mix of determination and avoidance. “I should go now.”
Joel’s gaze followed you, his concern evident. “Wait, hold on. I know you’re trying to distance yourself again,” he said, his voice a mix of frustration and pleading. “We can talk this out. I thought we were making progress.”
You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “I just… I need some space right now. There’s a lot to process, and I don’t want to keep having these conversations when I’m not ready. I’m trying to figure things out, and it’s hard to do that with everything so fresh.”
Joel’s expression softened, a mix of understanding and hurt crossing his face. “I get it. I really do. But shutting me out won’t make things easier. I want to be here for you, to help you through this. Running away from me or pushing me away won’t solve anything.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. “I’m-I’m not running away from you, Joel.”
Joel stepped closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I’m not trying to complicate things. I just want to be part of the solution, not the problem. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. But please, don’t shut me out completely. I care too much to let you go through this alone.”
You looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your resolve waver. “I appreciate that, Joel. But I need to go”
Joel’s expression hardened, though his eyes still held a flicker of hurt. “Okay,” he said, his tone sharper than before. “If that’s what you need, I’ll back off.”
You could feel the sting of his words, a mix of anger and resignation in his voice. You nodded, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you for understanding.”
As you turned to leave, Joel’s gaze followed you, a mixture of frustration and sadness etched on his face. The conversation had left both of you in a raw, vulnerable state, and the air between you was heavy with unresolved emotions.
As night settled over Jackson, the streets grew quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. You wandered aimlessly, torn between the invitation from Tommy and Maria and the thought of returning to your own space. The uncertainty of your feelings and the tension with Joel weighed heavily on your mind.
Just as you were about to make a decision, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned to see Joel walking towards you, his expression a mix of determination and concern. The spark of his brown eyes seemed to cast a glow under the lights, and your breath got stuck in your throat.
Just as you were about to make a decision, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned to see Joel walking towards you, his expression a mix of determination and concern. The spark of his brown eyes seemed to cast a glow under the lights, and your breath got stuck in your throat.
“Are you going to Tommy’s?” Joel asked, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness.
You nodded slowly. “I don’t know.”
“Why?” Joel asked, his tone sharp. “Because I’m going?”
His question hung in the air, charged with the tension between you. You could see the frustration and hurt etched on his face, and it made you realize how deeply conflicted he was.
“No,” you said quietly, though the weight of your uncertainty was clear. “I just... I need to figure things out.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, his frustration boiling over. “Figure things out? You know, every time I try to make things right, it feels like I’m just making them worse.”
“It’s not just about you,” you said, trying to hold back the tears. “It’s about me, too. I need to figure out what I want.”
Joel ran a hand through his hair, his gaze shifting away for a moment. “I get that you need space, but it feels like you’re avoiding me, avoiding what’s between us.”
“I’m not avoiding you,” you replied, your voice cracking.
Joel’s eyes softened slightly, though the hurt was still evident. “Look, if you want to go to Tommy’s, then go. But don’t use it as an excuse to push me away. I’m here, and I’m trying to be part of this, part of us.”
Joel’s frustration reached a boiling point as he shouted, “Every time we made progress, you just pushed it all away because you’re afraid! You’re acting like a coward!”
You flinched at his raised voice, your own emotions bubbling to the surface. “Why? For protecting myself from you?” you snapped back, feeling the sting of his words.
Joel’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and desperation. “Oh my god! What do you want me to do? You almost died, I could die, and you’re putting all of this on hold because you’re scared instead?” His voice was strained, almost out of breath.
You felt a sharp pang of hurt at his accusation. “Well, that’s one person less to cry over for you,” you shot back, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into your tone.
Joel’s face darkened with anger and frustration. “You’re a fucking— I’m done.” His words were cut short as he struggled to control his emotions.
The anger in Joel’s voice only made you cry harder, the tears flowing freely now. “You don’t understand,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “I love you, Joel. I really do, so much. But everything always ends with me in the dark, sobbing all alone because people I love leave or die and I don’t want you to die.”
Joel’s face softened at your tears, his anger melting away into a pained expression. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he wiped away a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry, sunshine,” he said, his voice breaking.
"I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you, and I won't die for you. I'll live for you, I'll carry all for you," he said, his voice full of raw emotion.
"Joel..." you started, but your words faltered, lost in the storm of feelings between you.
"Listen to me, you will never be alone again," he reassured, his voice filled with a desperate promise.
You didn't answer, just looking down at your boots, feeling Joel’s gaze burning with sadness and fury, a mix of emotions that felt like daggers dressed in words.
Joel sighed, hopelessness dripping from his voice. "Okay." He said, giving up on you.
"I fell in love with Joel who was charismatic and kind, the one I know you're capable of being but hide because you’re afraid of seeing those colors in yourself again," you said softly. "And I even love the grumpy one a bit, but—"
"But?" Joel prompted, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Please don’t—"
"I love you so much, and I want to say sorry for not realizing before," he said, the confession slipping out as you looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your cheek. “I love you” he repeated, “and I want to be the man you fell in love with. I want to be the one who can stand beside you, not just in the good times, but in the hard ones too.”
You looked everywhere but him, not uttering a word. Joel’s expression shifted from frustration to resignation as he began to turn away, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
Just as he was about to step back, feeling the cold sting of the night air, you made a sudden, impulsive move. Without thinking, you reached out and closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a fierce, desperate kiss.
The shock of the kiss jolted Joel into stillness. For a moment, he stood there, frozen, as if trying to process what was happening. But then, the tension in his body melted away, and he responded with equal fervor, his arms wrapping around you tightly. The kiss was a blend of longing, frustration, and the deep love that had been building between you.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, the raw intensity of the moment lingering in the air. Joel’s eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of surprise and hope.
"I promise I won't forget this kiss," you said softly, recalling the meaning behind that statement
Joel’s eyes softened as he gazed at you with intensity and desire. “You’re coming home with me,” he said firmly, leaning in and kissing you again.
Once he finally managed to unlock the door of his house, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the warmth and familiarity of his home wrapping around you.
As soon as the door closed behind you, Joel turned to face you, his expression soft and filled with a deep, lingering emotion. Without a word, he took your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the last of your tears. Then, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours once more, this kiss tender and filled with all the words he couldn’t quite say.
You responded, your arms winding around his neck as you melted into the kiss. It was a kiss of promises and newfound hope, a kiss that spoke of the love you shared and the future you were ready to face together. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a contented smile on Joel’s lips.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.”
You smiled; your heart full. “I’ve missed you too, Joel. More than you know.”
Joel's smile lingered for just a moment before he leaned in once more, capturing your lips with his. You responded eagerly, your arms tightening around his neck as you lost yourself in the moment.
Soon the both of you were inside Joel’s bedroom, you laying on your back with him on top. Your shirt was on the floor, along with his shirt and jeans. You felt a sudden warmth spreading up on your cheeks at the thought of your fresh scar resting on your abdomen.
Joel looked at you with concern as he followed your gaze. His eyes softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over the scar as if to trace the memories you had built.
“You know,” he said quietly, his voice filled with warmth, “this scar doesn’t change a thing about how I see you. You’re absolutely perfect to me, just the way you are.”
You looked at him, your heart swelling at his words. Despite the physical reminder of what you’d been through, his reassurance made you feel cherished and beautiful. His gaze was unwavering, filled with a deep, genuine affection that made the pain of the past seem a little less sharp.
Joel's eyes met yours again, full of tenderness. “You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here, stronger than ever.”
You smiled softly, touched by his words. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, placing kisses on your cheeks, slowly moving down your neck, your chest, finally reaching the scar, planting a kiss over it.
You felt treasured. Your nipples were hard and begging to be brushed, something Joel was aware of since he needed you all over again. He shortly sucked on a nipple, arching your back and grasping your tights with his own. The lust had completely taken control of you, and now every part of you yearned his touch.
Joel pulled his mouth away to look at you, raising his palm to trace your face with his thumb. "I love you," he kissed your forehead then your cheek. "I love you," he whispered, kissing both your lips and neck.
"And I love you too." You whispered, and a smile spread across your face as you took a look of him. “Now can you please finish what you started or I swear- “
Your words were cut by Joel taking your lips on his mouth again, muttering “I love you” again, before pulling your jeans down as you did the same with his.
He pushed your thighs apart and stepped between them while slowly guiding himself inside you. The feeling of fullness and stretch were both familiar and foreign. You hadn’t had him in weeks that turned into months, and now he felt massive. When he was all the way inside, a heavy groan got stuck in his throat as he pressed his forehead against yours, his mouth hung open and his face twisted.
"God, you feel so good," he gasped. "I could just come right now."
Your laughter rang through your chest as he moved. The consuming pleasure made you both tremble. Then he increased up the pace and rammed quicker. He was thrilled, and he could feel himself becoming thicker and fuller inside you. You were struggling to breathe, but your hips were bucking to encourage him to move quicker. And so, he did, providing you precisely what you asked for.
He moved one hand down to your hip, his head leaning forward to grasp your lips in a passionate kiss as he pounded harder toward the orgasm. You could feel the heat spread throughout your body like a blaze, and his finger toyed with your clit, heightening the pleasure on your body. Your eyes began to flutter, and your nails scratched down his back. Joel bit your neck, hearing filthy moans escaping your lips as he felt himself reaching the edge. Soon, your head felt back, and a loud groan erupted from your mouth as the two of you reached your release.
Your entire body went numb as Joel lay down next to you.
“I don’t want to move.” You spoke, unable to move.
his warmth radiating through the space between you. As you lay there, unable to move, he settled down next to you with a relaxed, contented smile.
“Don’t worry about moving,” he said softly, his voice soothing. “We can just stay here, right where we are. No need to rush or do anything.”
His hand found yours, fingers lacing with yours in a gentle, reassuring grip. He adjusted his position so he was facing you, his smile never fading.
You glanced at him, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. He leaned down to kiss you. Joel’s lips brushed against yours with a tender, lingering kiss, conveying all the love and reassurance he felt for you.
Joel’s lips lingered on yours for a moment longer before he pulled back, his gaze soft and caring. “Do you want to get some sleep?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern and tenderness.
You nodded, the aftermath exhaustion finally catching up with you. Joel’s smile grew as he gently kissed your forehead. “Alright, let’s get you comfortable.”
He carefully slipped out of bed and retrieved a soft t-shirt from his drawer. He helped you change into it, his touch tender and careful. Once you were settled, he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as he carried you to the bed.
With a practiced ease, Joel placed you gently under the covers, ensuring you were tucked in warmly. He then slid in beside you, pulling the blankets up to your chin.
He looked at you with a mix of love and concern. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”
You snuggled into the warmth and comfort of the bed, feeling secure with Joel beside you.
The morning light crept softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke before Joel, the stillness of the room only adding to the quiet tension you felt. As you lay there, you couldn’t shake the lingering fear from the last time you had been so close to him. The thought that he might wake up and not remember you again, or that things might somehow go back to the way they were, gnawed at you.
You turned your head to watch Joel sleep, his features relaxed and peaceful. His breathing was steady, and the sight of him lying there, so calm and content, was both comforting and nerve-wracking. The fear of losing this moment, of it slipping away like before, was overwhelming.
Joel stirred slightly, a soft groan escaping his lips as he slowly began to wake. His eyes fluttered open, and for a few seconds, he looked at you with a mixture of confusion and grogginess. Your heart raced, the fear of seeing him slip back into a disconnected state making your breath catch in your throat.
But then, as his eyes fully opened and he focused on you, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
I tagged everyone interested in more parts or or the ones who commented, but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed (again) if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me. I tried to add everyone but I don't know If I did.
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Memento Vivere
Also on AO3
Part I // Part II // Mini-Series Masterlist
Pairing: Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader
WC: 4.1k words
Summary: Rome is in disarray. Macrinus has been trying to seize power and therefore, he decides to use you as collateral. But Lucius won't let him win so easily.
Warnings: MINORS DNI this fic is 18+, canon events with canon divergence (so, potentially spoilers), graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood and death, abduction, angst (but there's a happy ending!), reader is a courtesan (SW), fluffy smut, unprotected p in v, 69, typical roman wedding customs, some historical inaccuracies potentially, aaaand i think that’s it! But lmk if anything else.
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"Love conquers all; therefore, let us submit to love."
–Virgil.
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The pounding came late at night, when the moon had disappeared in preparation for the dawn. The raucous sound startled you awake from a dream you immediately forgot, leaving you dazed and slightly panicked. Prima, your chambermaid, hastily draped a cloak over your shoulders and accompanied you to the front of the house to investigate.
The iron gates seemed to shake from the sheer power of the knocking, as if a battering ram was being used. The courtyard was shadowed except for a few small torches and in that moment, you couldn’t help but believe anything could be lurking in the darkness. Gallus, who guarded the entrance, motioned with one hand for you and Prima to stay where you were.
Fear curdled icily in your stomach and you clutched Prima’s arm as Gallus undid the giant latch that held the gates closed. He partially opened one of them, but as soon as he did, a trio of brawny men barreled inside.
One of them, quick as a flash, drew his sword and drove it into Gallus’ chest. He let out a gurgling sound and collapsed, immediately dead. Prima screamed, but you were frozen in shock, a sob clogging in your throat. The other two men started to menacingly make their way towards you, quickly closing the distance.
You shoved Prima back towards the hallway, stepping in front of her protectively.
“Run,” you urged her. “Save yourself!”
She hesitated for a moment, but then her self-preservation instincts took over and she darted into the darkness of the house. Luckily, none of them pursued her, but they weren’t there for her, after all.
The two men reached you, each clutching one of your arms and dragging you to the entrance. Your heart was pounding like a war drum in your chest, everything coming into sharper focus as adrenaline kicked in. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask who they were or where they were taking you, too afraid they might become more aggressive.
Outside the gate, there were a few more men holding torches, all of them surrounding a man on a pale horse. The rider removed the hood of his cloak and it was none other than Macrinus, Lucius’ master.
“A little bird has told me that one of my gladiators holds you in high regard,” he said by way of greeting, his smile a thin veneer of friendliness. “My champion, as you might recall…”
You dipped your chin in assent, knowing it was futile to lie. His men were restless as if waiting for an excuse to intervene, and you wouldn���t give it to them if you could help it.
“Well, as it happens, I am now in need of some help keeping him in check,” he said, his words less like an invitation and more of a command. “If you would be so kind as to come with us.”
You swallowed hard, nodding once more. “I-if I may ask… Where are we going?”
“Oh, you needn’t worry about that.” He waved off the question dismissively. “You’ll be perfectly safe in my care.”
You hesitated for a moment before inclining your head, trying to seem polite despite the tremor in your voice. “Of course, I–thank you.”
He held out his heavily ringed hand for you to take and swiftly pulled you onto his horse in front of him. You cast one last fretful glance back at your house as if to commit it to memory. What if you never returned?
No, you couldn’t think like that. You’d do whatever it took to see things through and come out alive on the other side. You could play the game… Whatever it was. But if Lucius was on the line, what exactly was expected of you?
“Hold on tightly, now,” Macrinus said close to your ear, making your skin crawl. “Wouldn’t want you to fall.”
He spurred his horse into a wild gallop, the darkened streets of Rome blurring together as they flew past you. The sun was just beginning to rise in the horizon, slowly bleeding crimson and gold.
It could be no coincidence that just the day before, General Acacius had been executed by the Praetorian guard after Lucius had chosen to grant him mercy. You couldn’t be sure what either of them was planning, but Lucius had to be enough of a threat to warrant some collateral. Perhaps Macrinus even thought you might have some idea of what his next move would be.
Anxiousness knotted in your chest as you stared straight ahead. Perhaps if you played your part well enough, you might not just save yourself, but you might also help Lucius, too. All that was left to do was wait.
—-----------------
Outside, the Roman populace was rioting. The fires throughout the city had doubled after the fate of Queen Lucilla was announced. It was no surprise, given their adoration for her and the former General Acasius. That was working in her and Lucius’ favor, but it was also working in Macrinus’s, if things went according to his plans. Things were in a rather precarious position in Rome. Emperor Geta was already dead, and nobody was too keen on the idea of Caracalla having sole power.
Lucius and his mother met a few days prior to form a plan to defeat Macrinus, and they relied on the element of surprise. Lucius hadn’t summoned you in some time, wanting to keep you away from danger, but he had still tried to send you a couple of messages with Ravi. Much to his dismay, though, he had received no response. He feared that you might be angry at him, but it wasn’t until Viggo boasted about your capture, taunting him, that he found out the truth.
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Lucius drove his sword into the face of the man who had tried so hard to break him on the training grounds. He could endure his attempts to humiliate him, the sharp bite of the whip tearing open his back, and the leering grins at his suffering. But he could not bear the thought of him laying a single hand on you.
And still, even after killing him, his rage was not quelled. It would carry him through the rest of the day, like a purifying, righteous flame.
His fellow gladiators disposed of the rest of their captors, and now they waited to enact Lucius’ plan. He stalked out on the sand, approaching the sacrificial altar where his mother and the senators who had conspired with her were tied. Senator Gracchus was among them, his hunched form and frightened expression like a dagger piercing your heart. Queen Lucilla, for her part, kept her chin raised high, a serenely dignified expression on her face. She would not go down afraid in the face of her enemies.
Lucius looked to the Emperor’s box and momentarily halted in his steps as he spotted you. Beside you, Macrinus smiled, wide and cruel. He had deliberately kept you hidden until that moment, when he knew it would be an irresistible distraction to Lucius. You tried to shake your head imperceptibly, but you knew it’d be impossible for him to see at such a great distance.
A scream threatened to crawl up your throat, but you stayed perfectly still, your expression neutral. You could betray nothing in that moment, or it might cost you both everything. Fortuna, I beg you, bless him with your favor once more…
Lucius’ rage was incandescent, blazing through him like sunlight itself. Everything else seemed to disappear and he became like the edge of a well-honed blade – the vision of the god Apollo. He raised his sword and pointed it directly at Macrinus – both a promise and a threat. Only one of them would still live by the end of the day.
The master of ceremonies announced what the games would consist of – Lucius would be the sole fighter to defend his mother and the senators from the Praetorian guard. They rode into the arena at the sound of trumpets, the thunderous noise of horses' hooves pounding on the sand reverberating through you. Your vision went dark for a moment and you thought you might faint, but then you felt an arm slip around your shoulders.
“I want you to watch closely now,” Macrinus said, voice low and close to your ear. “This is what happens to those who go against my will.”
You watched as the soldiers circled closer and closer. An archer among them loosed an arrow that pierced through Senator Gracchus’ throat, blood spurting from his mouth like a gruesome fountain. You whimpered, feeling like air had been punched out of your lungs. Tears rapidly welled in your eyes as your patron fell to his knees, dead within seconds. Macrinus’ grip on your shoulders tightened, gripping your chin with his free hand when you tried to glance away.
At his throne, Emperor Caracalla clapped excitedly over the first death of the spectacle. His pet monkey climbed onto his shoulders, chittering anxiously at all the commotion. With one last menacing look, Macrinus let go of your shoulders and stepped behind the throne to get a better look. Beneath your cloak, your fingers brushed over the small knife you’d stolen from the kitchen at Macrinus’ estate. You sent another prayer to Nemesis, goddess of revenge, so that your hand wouldn’t falter if you were forced to use it.
In the arena, Lucius jumped onto the platform where his mother stood and let out a fierce roar, raising his sword in the air. His battle cry was echoed by the dozens of gladiators that suddenly flooded the arena, immediately engaging the soldiers in a fierce melee.
Mayhem ensued as the crowd grew wild and rapidly uncontrollable. The people surged forward like a tempestuous tide, fighting back against the Praetorian guards who were meant to keep things under control. Macrinus saw his opportunity in the chaos and slipped a needle-like knife into Caracalla’s ear, killing him. His monkey leaped away, terrified, and lost itself in the commotion.
You stumbled backward, aghast, as Macrinus took the bow of the guard nearest him and fired down into the arena. Unthinking, you unsheathed the knife for protection and fled while he was still turned away. You heard his furious scream and his pounding footsteps in pursuit of you, but soon you were met with the angry Roman mob.
You glanced over your shoulder, weighing your options, and decided your chances were better if you lost yourself in the crowd. You fought your way through, not letting anything or anyone stop you. Your heart was racing and your breaths were coming out in harsh pants, but no one really paid attention to you. You were jostled and thrown about, but that seemed to be the worst of it.
Macrinus gave up pursuit rather quickly, instead stealing a horse and fleeing towards Ostia, where he would meet his fate. As for Lucius, you had faith in his strength, in the fury that drove him forward. The best thing you could do was find somewhere to hide, at least until things settled down some. He could not have any more distractions now, in the most crucial moment.
And so, you ran.
—-------------------------------------
Countless hours later, after defeating Macrinus in a duel where the fate of Rome was at stake, Lucius revealed his true identity, his grandfather’s ring back on his finger. But he did not stay long to revel in his victory, instead riding back into the city at breakneck speed. He searched the busy streets for you with the desperation of a man who had already lost everything, but was not willing to go through it again. The rage was dissipating into panic, but he wouldn’t let himself succumb to it.
You were praying in a small temple of Fortuna when you heard his hoarse voice calling out your name, the sound growing closer. You threw off your hood and dashed into the street, seeing him in the near distance atop his horse, frantically looking about. Relief at seeing him alive, though bruised and bloodied, flooded through you. You could almost fall to your knees in gratitude, a great weight lifting off your shoulders.
“Lucius!” You called out, waving your arms above your head so he may spot you. “Lucius, over here!”
Finally, he saw you, his expression nearly crumbling with relief. People moved out of the way to let him through, curiously taking in the scene. By the time he reached you, you noticed your face was wet with tears, but you were unable to stop smiling. He let out a breathy laugh, overjoyed, and pulled you onto his horse. He caught you halfway and kissed you deeply, not stopping even as you murmured thank you, thank you, thank you against his lips like a prayer.
Then he seemed to remember where you were, with dozens surrounding you, and he knew he had to get you out of there. He leaned his forehead against yours for a moment, barely able to believe his immense fortune. He mentally thanked anyone who might be listening for bringing you back to his side, and he kissed the tip of your nose.
“I told you you’d be the first one I’d run to,” he said, helping you settle in front of him. “We must go, the streets are not safe yet.”
You nodded, pressing closer to him. You didn’t even need to ask where he was taking you, for you would go with him anywhere. To the ends of the earth and beyond, until you were just two shades in Hades, indistinguishable from one another.
He spurred his horse, navigating it up the road and away from the more condensed areas of the city. Soon the cloying smell of smoke and the constant shouting disappeared behind you like a distant nightmare. The clean mountain air revitalized you, finally making you feel a little more at ease. We really did it. We made it through.
When you reached the outskirts of the forest near a cliffside, he finally stopped. The view was breathtaking, the sunset seeming to stretch on infinitely, painting the entire sky in swaths of orange and pink. It was quiet except for a soft breeze, with no one around for miles to intrude in your little pocket of paradise. He dismounted first, but you jumped into his arms before he could help you down, practically tackling him to the ground.
He laughed and you kissed him, letting him roll you onto your back on the bed of grass. Hands roamed over each other’s bodies with a certain urgency, ascertaining your solidity. You arched against him and he clutched you to him as if his life depended on it, moving to kiss your face and neck.
“I should have known,” he said, his anger self-directed. “I should have done more to keep you safe, I-”
“No use dwelling on what could have been when I am here now, safe in your arms.” You caressed his hair gently, trying to soothe him.
“But what if you weren’t?” he said, stopping to look at you. “I would never forgive myself for it. I would have followed you immediately.”
“Lucius, please…” you tried to protest, but he turned his face to kiss your palm, laying it against his cheek. “The threat is gone. You have defeated Macrinus. There is nothing to fear.”
For a moment, there was torment written on his features, like a long-buried memory had come to haunt him. His eyes scanned your face, searching for comfort in your loveliness — the delicate curve of your cupid’s bow, the slope of your nose, the fan of your lashes against your cheekbones when you blinked. Your gentle gaze, especially, and those soft lips that curved in a smile whenever he was around. He could never grow tired of looking at you.
For the first time in a long, long time, he could see a future ahead of him, waiting with open arms. Without you, it was just not there, and that was why he was still so distressed. He couldn’t fathom being separated from you and he had been foolish not to realize it sooner. He had been stubborn about his feelings, thinking it was better to keep you at arm’s length just to save you. And all for what?
“What is it?” You prompted, gently smoothing out his frown with your fingers, bringing him out of his thoughts.
“Will you marry me?” He asked.
You immediately sat up, making him pull back with you. You opened and closed your mouth, shocked beyond words. For a moment, you even thought you had imagined him asking that. His eyebrows raised slightly, nervous but expectant.
“Marry you,” You repeated breathlessly, blinking at him. “You want to make an honest woman out of me, is that it?”
“Not just that.” He chuckled. “But an Emperor’s wife, too.”
Your eyes widened. “What?”
He showed you his ring, which featured the profile of Marcus Aurelius, his grandfather. Every last piece of the puzzle seemed to click into place then, but it would take some more time for it to fully sink in. You stared at the ring, completely awestruck, and bent your head to kiss it as if by reflex.
“Lucius, I… Is this what you really want?” You asked, not letting go of his hand. “I am just not sure that I’m, you know…”
You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word worthy, but he caught your meaning anyway. His fingers squeezed yours reassuringly, making you look into his eyes.
“I have never been more certain of anything,” he said. “I would argue you are deserving of better than me. I am not a man without faults, or history, as you well know.”
You shook your head as if he was foolish to worry about such things. It wasn’t like you didn’t have any faults or regrets of your own. You’d already had enough sleepless nights being tormented by them, as you knew he had been. No person had nothing they wouldn’t like to be forgiven for.
“Well, you are plenty enough for me,” you said softly. “Faults and all.”
“As are you,” he said, returning the gesture of worship and respect by kissing your hand. “I want nothing more. I need nothing more. Just you.”
“Then it is no question, really.” You smiled, on the brink of tears again. “I will happily marry you, Lucius Verus Aurelius.”
Finally, the dark cloud lifted from his expression, and his smile was even more beautiful than the sunset coming to an end behind him. Now it was him who tackled you back onto the ground and you thought he might devour you, his lips intent on not leaving one inch of your skin unkissed.
—-------------------------------------
The ceremony was kept small and intimate, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. It was an auspicious June day, warm and pleasant, with no clouds in the sky. The air was perfumed with the smell of fresh cut flowers, as there were dozens of arrangements set up all around. Fountains babbled in the gardens, accompanying the echo of your excited voices.
As was custom, Lucius chased you around the halls of the palace in a mock kidnapping. You could not stop laughing, exhilarated, a thrill dancing down your spine any time you looked over your shoulder to see him giving chase. When he finally caught you, he threw you over his shoulder and carried you to a lectus that overlooked the gardens.
Your veil and wreath came off first as he laid you down on the plush cushions, hair fanning out over them. You helped each other out of your clothes, eager to have nothing between you. When Lucius’ toga was off, you admired his body, running your hands over the hard planes of his stomach and up to his chest.
He cupped the back of your neck and brought your lips to his greedily. The slide of his warm skin against yours was heavenly, only making you want more and more of him, forever. It was still surreal that what had so recently become a dream of yours was now a reality. You would always thank Fortuna for that.
But that made you remember something you’d been wanting to bring up, except there had not been any opportunity before. You hoped it wouldn’t ruin the moment, but it could wait no longer.
“Lucius?” You said between kisses.
“Yes, my love?”
You pulled back to look him in the eye, setting your hands on his shoulders.
“Um,” you began nervously, swallowing hard. “I know what our duties are but… Would it be so terrible to enjoy our marriage by ourselves just a little while longer?”
He caught your meaning immediately, nodding reassuringly as he placed his palm on the small of your back.
“I am in no rush if you are not,” he said without hesitation, not minding the idea one bit.
He’d been having similar thoughts about it for the past couple of days, anyway, and he was glad you’d been the one to bring it up. You smiled at him gratefully, sighing with relief. His eyes dropped to your lips once more, their lure nearly irresistible.
“My wife is a greedy little thing, wanting to keep me all to herself.”
You chuckled salaciously as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “Can you blame me?”
He shook his head, watching as you teasingly bit his thumb, licking the pad of it. He let out a breathy groan and you pushed him onto his back, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his chest. His hips jerked as your lips passed his navel, and with the flat of your tongue, you teased the velvety underside of his hard cock.
You heard his sharp intake of breath, followed by him sighing your name. You continued to tease and lick him, making him whimper, his eyes pleading for more when you looked into them. You took him into your mouth and his head tipped back in pleasure, exposing the column of his throat.
“Come here,” he rasped deliriously. “I need to taste you, too.”
You complied with no protest, only extricating yourself to reposition. You swung a leg over his head to straddle his face, leaning your body forward so you could take his cock in your mouth once more. His tongue lapped at your inner thigh, which was glistening with your arousal. You shuddered, moaning around him.
You pushed your hips back as he traced the tip of his tongue through your folds, groaning at the taste of you. The tips of your fingers brushed his sac as you sucked on the sensitive tip of his cock, and he felt as if he might go wild at that moment.
His fingers, in turn, dipped into your cunt, preparing you for him. It became like a game, trying to get the other to come first. He won first, but he wasn’t far behind, and he marveled at the fact that you swallowed every drop. From then on, things were a lot more frenzied.
Hours passed without either of you noticing. There were only a few breaks in between, but otherwise, you and Lucius explored every possible position on and around the couch. It was perhaps the longest wedding night in history, with nothing to hold you back any longer. Except for maybe physical exhaustion, which set in when the sun was beginning to rise on a new dawn.
The two of you lay naked, holding each other close, while you watched the sky lighten. The morning was ripe with possibility, Rome feeling like an entirely different realm. Fear had reigned for so long that peace was still a new luxury, but not one you took for granted.
At that moment, before the day really started and you both had to face your new responsibilities, all you wanted was to commit the first moments of your marriage to memory. The matching rings on your interlocked fingers, the adoring look in Lucius’ heavy-lidded eyes, and the mutual promise to take care of each other for the rest of your days.
“Get some rest, my love,” you murmured, caressing his face. “You’ll need your strength.”
“I shall only sleep if I’ll see you in my dreams,” he murmured, trying to sound playful, but his eyes were already closed.
You chuckled, kissing his forehead. “And when you wake up, you’ll see it wasn’t a dream after all.”
--------
Finis.
#lucius verus x reader#lucius verus x you#lucius verus fanfiction#gladiator fanfiction#lucius verus smut#lucius verus#x reader#minors dni
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Dub con with rafe:
rafe f ing his daughters best friend in the middle of the night against a wall when she just wanted to get a glass of water
She doesnt want it but it feels sooo good
S cking on her tits and filling her up
Quiet Sweetheart
-
You pad your feet along the cold tiles. The house is dark and silent. You left your best friend sound asleep in her bed to come downstairs for a drink, unable to sleep from the thirst. The kitchen is dark with only the moonlight shining through the window to give you a path towards the fridge.
You pour yourself the ice cold beverage and gulp down the liquids, feeling refreshed and ready to pad back upstairs when a figure startles you. You’re back hitting the wall and you silently gasp but then feel relief when your best friend’s dad, rafe, enters the kitchen. His tall figure coming into light. Hes shirtless, his sweatpants hanging down on his hips, his abs flexing as he walks towards you. Eyes on you as he reaches with one hand for the fridge handle, pulling it open. The light illuminates your figure more. The skimpy white tank and short sleeping shorts leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. Rafes eyes trail down your chest, where your nipples poke at the fabric, and down to your thighs that are squeezed into the shorts.
“It’s late” he says turning his head back towards the fridge and pulling out the pitcher of water. “Couldn’t sleep?” He pulls a glass from the cupboard and pours himself some of the liquid. Gulping it down and setting the glass onto the kitchen island. You shake your head, looking down at the tiled floor. “Was just thirsty, is all” you mutter, feeling like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Rafe made you feel like that. He’d always be watching you whenever you were over, always stern and authoritative. He would never actually say anything to you, he barely spoke to you. This is the most he’s said to you in all 4 years you’ve been coming over.
Rafe is the most feared man on the island. After his father’s death he took for the family business and turned it into an empire. People cowered in front of him. He intimidated you, you dont know why you allowed him to make you feel this way. He’s never done anything to you. “You don’t have to be scared of me” you were so caught up in your thoughts that you hadnt realized he was so close. “W-what? I’m not, sir” you stuttered on your words. He rolled his eyes, “and you don’t have to call me sir” he stepped closer, caging your body against the wall. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Not only because his natural scent of Cardamom and Sage enveloped you, but because there was nowhere to go even if you tried to move. “A pretty thing like you..” he cut his sentence short. His fingers moving up to push a strand of hair out of your face. He lifted your chin upward with his thumb and pointer finger so you could look him in the eye. “You know I watch you whenever you’re here.” He continues speaking, not even paying attention to how uncomfortable he’s making you.
“So pretty, sweetheart” his eyes go lower to your chest. Hands moving down to palm your tits through the materiel in the way. You whine, but not in pleasure, more in fear. Fear of not knowing what he’s doing or what he’ll do next. But your to scared to move. Back still firmly against the wall as he lifts the hem of your shirt up and you hear him groan when your plump tits are exposed. “God.” He mutters, “these are.. beautiful” he gropes them in his palm. “How many times I’ve imaged seeing you like this. How many times I’ve touched myself to you” he continues talking but he’s not even talking to you. He’s just thinking out loud. “and now I can have what I’ve always wanted” he reaches for his sweatpants lowering the cloth down and pulling his hardened length out. You gasp and your eyes widen in shock, “Mr. Cameron, I-i don’t think-“ he shushes you, “that’s right, sweetheart. Don’t think” he swiftly turns you around, yanking at your short and panties and spreading your legs wider.
You feel the pressure of his tip push into your hole. The stretch and reality of what’s happening bringing tears to your eyes. “Quiet baby” he chuckles breathlessly “don’t wanna wake anyone up” he snuggles himself fully in you and you whimper. This might be wrong and disgusting, but why does it feel good. He places his palm around your mouth, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering “brace yourself, sweetheart. I’ve dreamt about this for far too long and I won’t be gentle” before pulling back and snapping his hips into you roughly. The tears spill from your eyes. You don’t want this, but you can’t help the way he fills you up, his tip already finding that spot inside you that has your thighs shaking and a sadistic smirk painting Rafes face. Taglist
@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10 @writingroom21 @wtfdudesblog
#rafe cameron#outer banks#drew starkey#smut#dark rafe cameron#drewstarkey smut#outerbanks#rafecameron#drewstarkey#fanfic#drew starkey fanfiction#smut drew starkey#sofia outerbanks#drew and reader smut#drew starkey smut#drew x reader#smut drew#sensitive content#darkrafecameronfanficsmut#drew fluff#dark drew starkey#drew#outerbanks rafe#jonathan daviss smut#dark smut#dark rafe x reader#jonathan daviss#dark rafe#rafe sad#drabble
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Haunted House | Q. Hughes
pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
word count: 1.48k
summary: Jack forces you to go through a haunted house with Quinn, leading to confessions from both of you.
warnings: none?
requested: no
not my gif!
“You got to come!”
Jack was begging at your door, almost on his knees begging for you to come to some stupid haunted house with him.
“Why? You know I don’t like scary things.”
“But Quinn’ll be there, he can protect you!”
“Oh I’m so sure your brother wants to have to look after me.”
Jack mumbled something under his breath, too quiet to hear before he returned to his begging, claiming he’ll never leave until you agree.
“I can do this all day, have fun begging.”
It was a strong line, until he began singing. Serenading your neighborhood with the out of pitch tune, causing a few dogs to begin barking before you begged him to stop.
“Fine, fine! I’ll go, just stop it!”
The smile on Jack’s face was almost brighter than the sun, his arms wrapping around your waist quickly to pull you into him for a hug, whispering thank you’s and ensuring that you’d be fine.
By nine, you’d talked yourself out of going, coming up with a fake sickness before Jack showed. Of course, why would he knock though? Walking into your house and scaring the shit out of you was his favorite part of having his own key to your house.
“Jack!”
Your heart was racing when he appeared behind you, looking over your shoulder at your laptop, which now lay on the couch from when you jumped in fear.
“Were you googling fake illnesses to get out of this?”
There was mock hurt in his voice, a hand to his heart while you rolled your eyes.
“Maybe.”
“Too late, you’re coming.”
“Please-”
“Nope.”
Jack had dragged you to his car before you could speak, throwing the door open to shove you down beside Quinn in the back. Quinn softly laughed at the interaction, covering his smile with his hand while you tried to hide the blush from him.
“Didn’t want to come anymore?”
Quinn turned to look at you, making you scrunch your face in distaste at his question, urging him to laugh once more.
“I was trying to fake an illness when Jack broke in.”
Quinn all but burst out laughing at the confession, turning away from you again to laugh while you smiled at the sight.
You’d always had a thing for the oldest Hughes’ brother, and when Jack found out he was adamant that he could get you together. Nevertheless when you begged him not to try anything, he complied. Not without bringing it up every day though.
“I was thinking pairs for the haunted house.” Jack spoke, interrupting the peace that had settled in the car. “Was thinking of Quinn and pumpkin, me and Trevor, Luke and Seamus.”
The nickname resurfacing every October, coming from the once Jack had bought you a pumpkin spiced latte and you loved it, making it very known. You glanced at Quinn, noticing the sullen look on his face, feeling your heart drop.
“Yeah, that’s good.” Quinn’s words shocked you, glancing back at him to see the soft smile he sent your way.
It wasn’t long until you were stood outside the house, a soft breeze held a bit of a chill, forcing a shiver through your body as you waited.
“Here.” Quinn was quick to offer, removing the flannel from his body and over your shoulders.
“No, it’s okay-”
“You’re cold, take it.”
You knew arguing with him would be useless, having listened to countless arguments between him and Jack, so you stayed quiet. Thanking him softly for the flannel before slipping your arms properly through it, feeling the warmth of his left in it.
“Okay, Quinn and pumpkin go first.” Jack deemed, speaking only when he and Trevor reached the front of the line.
“What? Why us?”
The thought of entering the house brought a little shake to your voice, feeling Quinn put his hand on your shoulder as you spoke.
“We’ll be fine, we got to show them.” Quinn whispered, his head resting on your shoulder now as he leaned to speak, ushering you forwards once you nodded.
Jack sent a goofy smile and wave your way as you glanced back, leaving you to flip him off before walking in beside Quinn.
The entrance was dark, only slivers of light seeping to just cover the floor, Quinn walked ahead, his hand reaching back for yours within seconds of the door closing. You took his hand quickly, letting him pull you beside him so his arm could wrap around your shoulders. There was rattling and flashing lights, the room quickly darkening the further in Quinn led.
The sounds of chainsaws filled the halls as Quinn tried to find his way, keeping his hold on you while he turned down another hall. The shaking of bars beside you grabbed your attention, letting out a scream when a hand reached for you.
“Baby, it’s okay.” Quinn had you wrapped in his arms quicker than you could think, continuing to whisper calming words to you.
“Are we at the end?”
Quinn was staring at you with wide eyes, his pupils blown as he shook his head, indicating no. He moved slowly, maneuvering your body to walk in front of his with his arms around your shoulders. He walked slowly, letting you walk at whatever speed you decided while keeping his eyes open for anything that could scare you.
The end came quickly, Quinn whispering tips to you about where to go and what to expect. His hold on you never falling, keeping your body against his the entire walk, whispering reassuring words every so often.
“Quinn?”
Your voice was almost a whisper as you walked through the door, seeing the night sky again, lit with all the stars.
“Hmm?” He hummed a response, turning your body to face his.
“Why’d you call me baby?”
A dark blush covered his cheeks, his face almost a beet red now while his hand reached to scratch the back of his neck. He stumbled over a few words, trying to think up a logical explanation before letting out a soft sigh, returning his hands to your waist where they had laid before.
“Because that’s what I want to call you,” He took a breath, “I want to be the one who gets to hold you at night, I want to be yours.”
“Quinn.” He shook his head as you whispered his name, shifting his hold on you to pull you in closer.
“It’s okay, I know you like Jack.”
You almost burst out laughing at the words, staring at him with a dumbfounded look instead, which he returned quickly.
“I don’t like Jack, Quinn, I’ve liked you since Jack introduced us.”
His eyes widened at the confession, leaning back as if to see more of you before moving to cup your face.
“Are you serious?”
His tone was filled with disbelief while you laughed out a yes, moving your hands to run through the hair at the nape of his neck, softly tugging on the chain he wore while you moved.
Quinn was quick to move after you spoke, pressing a kiss to your lips instantly. His touch making your body melt into his, letting his arms hold you up while you continued threading your hands in his hair.
“HOLY SHIT.”
The screams of Jack and Trevor filled the moment, urging you to pull back from Quinn to see them running from the house, headed directly for you.
“Oh so you finally made a move?”
Jack’s tone was filled with attitude, his hand landing on his hips as he stared down his brother, leaving Trevor panting behind. Quinn simply rolled his eyes, pulling your body flush against his once more before more screaming filled the air.
Looking up to see Luke and Seamus running from the house, damn near clinging to each other as they ran towards the group. Luke arrived first, colliding with Quinn’s back, pushing you forward while he clung to the backside of Quinn.
“That was terrifying, never again.” He panted, still clinging onto Quinn like his life depended on it.
“I think even Pumpkin handled that better than you.” Quinn played, using the old nickname, before turning to his brother.
Shoving Luke into a headlock quickly, ruffling his younger brother’s hair while he complained, not fighting hard enough to get out. You watched from the side, slipping from Quinn’s grasp when he turned to mess with Luke.
“Hey on the bright side,” Jack spoke, gaining the collective attention, “Q finally made a move!”
The collection of boys shared cheers, shoving Quinn around the circle before returning him to you, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders while his wrapped around your waist.
“Let’s go home now, hmm?” Quinn hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as you nodded, letting him lead you back to the car, calling for Jack to hurry up and drive you home.
#mads writings!#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes#hughes brothers#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#vancouver canucks#canucks hockey
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In the Quiet Hours
Rafe Cameron x Y/n
summary: A sleepless night at Rafes leads to a heated run in with Ward, uncovering dangerous secrets and dragging you into a deeper mess.
warnings: *TW* violence, sexual harassment, fear, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff.
The night in the Cameron house was unnervingly quiet, with only the soft hum of the AC breaking the stillness. You had been lying beside Rafe for hours, staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep. The heat combined with the swirling thoughts in your head made it impossible to fall asleep. So you decided to slip out of bed, careful not to disturb Rafe’s peaceful slumber, and headed downstairs for a glass of water.
As you reached the bottom of the stairs, the dim light from the kitchen caught your eye. Your steps slowed, it was late—too late for anyone else to be up.
You pushed open the door to the kitchen and stopped dead in your tracks. Ward was stood by the sink, a half empty glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes immediately locking onto you as you entered the room. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you, his gaze lingering a little too long, a little too intently.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Ward’s voice was low, almost a growl as he set his glass down and took a slow step towards you. “Couldn’t sleep?”
You tried to keep your composure, forcing a small smile as you replied, “Just need to get some water.”
Ward’s smile widened, but there was nothing friendly about it. “Water? At this hour?” He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “You know, there’s a much better way to take care of your thirst.” He slurred.
You felt your stomach churn at his words. “I should get back upstairs,” you said quickly, but when you turned to leave Ward’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. His grip was rough as your heart began to race.
“Why the rush?” he asked, his voice dripping with a fake sweetness. “Rafe’s out cold. He won’t even know you’re gone.”
You tugged at your wrist, but Ward’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. He pulled you closer until you could feel the heat radiating off of his body, his breath warm against your face.
“Ward, please,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady despite the panic rising in your chest. “Let me go.”
But instead of letting you go, he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’re too good to be wasting your time with my son. You deserve someone who knows how to treat a woman, knows exactly what she needs.”
Your breath hitched, fear tightening its grip on you. Ward’s free hand trailed up your arm, sending a shiver of disgust down your spine. “I could give you things no one would ever could,” he continued, his voice laced with something dark and twisted. “Just say the word, and I’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
You tried to pull away, but Ward was relentless, his grip like a vice. “Ward, stop,” you pleaded, your voice trembling now. “I’m in love with Rafe.”
“And that’s supposed to mean something to me?” Ward sneered, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you even closer. “Rafe doesn’t deserve such a pretty thing, he’s useless sweetheart.”
The way he said “sweetheart” made your skin crawl. You opened your mouth to say something, scream, anything at all, but before you could the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall.
“Ward, what the hell are you doing?”
Rose’s voice cut through the air like a knife, she stood in the doorway eyes wide with shock as she took in the scene. Ward’s grip on you loosened and he stepped back, his expression quickly shifting to one of feigned innocence.
“Nothing Rose,” he said smoothly, though his voice carried a slight edge. “Just a little late night chat.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed as she looked between the two of you, clearly not convinced. “Go back upstairs,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Now.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. You quickly moved past Ward, avoiding his eyes as you hurried towards the stairs. As you reached the bottom, you could still feel his gaze on you, burning into your back.
You rushed up the stairs, returning to Rafe’s room as quickly as you could. The darkness of the room was a stark contrast to the burning anxiety in your chest, and for a moment, you just stood there staring at the bed where Rafe lay sleeping, his breathing deep and even.
You wanted to crawl back into bed, wrap yourself in Rafe’s arms and pretend nothing had happened, but the thought of it made your stomach turn. How were you going to explain what just happened? How could you even begin to tell Rafe what his father just did to his girlfriend?
Your thoughts were racing, tangled up in fear and confusion. You didn’t want to wake Rafe. You didn’t want to burden him with this, not when you weren’t even sure how to process it yourself. The last thing you wanted was to make things worse between him and his father, but the weight of what just happened felt suffocating and you knew you couldn’t just go back to bed and pretend everything was fine.
Without thinking, you turned and slipped into Rafe’s bathroom. The cold tiles under your feet grounded you just enough to keep the panic at bay as you shut the door behind you. You sank to the floor, your back against the cool wall, and pulled your knees up to your chest wrapping your arms around them.
The quiet of the bathroom was almost too much, the silence allowing your thoughts to race unchecked. You replayed the scene over and over in your mind, Ward’s voice, his touch, the way he looked at you. It made you feel sick, like you wanted to scrub your skin raw just to get rid of the memory. But no matter how hard you tried to push it away, it lingered, festering like a wound.
You sat there for what felt like an eternity trying to collect yourself, trying to figure out what to do next. But you couldn’t stop the tears that began to well up in your eyes, hot and stinging as they slid down your cheeks. You buried your face in your hands, desperate to muffle your sobs that threatened to escape, not wanting to wake Rafe and force him to see you like this.
But Rafe had always been attuned to you, even in his sleep. It wasn’t long before you heard him stirring in the bedroom, the sheets rustling as he reached out for you. When his hand met the empty space, you heard him sit up, his voice groggy and thick with sleep.
“Baby?” Rafe called out softly, the concern already creeping into his voice when you didn’t respond. You could hear him getting out of bed, his footsteps soft as he walked around the room searching for you. “Where’d you go?”
You tried to stay quiet, hoping he might just go back to bed, but when he reached the bathroom door there was no hiding from him. He knocked gently, the sound soft but insistent. “You in there?”
You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself before answering. “Yeah… I’m here.”
The door opened almost immediately and Rafe stepped inside, his eyes narrowing with worry when he saw you sitting on the floor, tears streaking your face. He was by your side in an instant, dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as he searched your eyes.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice was laced with fear and concern, his thumb brushing away a tear that slipped down your cheek. “Why are you crying baby? Did something happen?”
You wanted to tell him you were fine, that it was nothing, but the words stuck in your throat, your voice betraying you with a broken sob. Rafe’s expressions shifted from worry to alarm, his hands tightening on your face as he tried to get you to look at him.
“Talk to me,” he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. “What happened?”
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the moment you met his eyes the dam broke and everything came pouring out. “I-It was your dad… Ward— he…” your voice trembled as you struggled to find the right words. “He cornered me in the kitchen, he—he said things, Rafe, disgusting things, a-and he wouldn’t let me go…”
Rafe’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. His eyes darkened with a fury you’d never seen before, his jaw clenching so tightly you could see the muscle twitch. He pulled away from you, his hands dropping to his sides as he stood up abruptly, fists clenching and unclenching as if he was trying to keep himself from exploding.
“That stupid piece of shit,” Rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
“No Rafe, please,” you cried, scrambling to your feet and grabbing his arm before he could storm out of the bathroom. “Don’t leave.. Please don’t leave.”
Rafe stopped in his tracks, turning to face you, his expression softening the moment he saw the fear in your eyes. The anger drained from him just as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with a deep concern that twisted his features into a pained expression.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You cling to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. It was grounding, comforting, even as the storm of emotions raged inside you.
“It’s not your fault,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest. “Just.. please just stay with me.”
Rafe’s arms tightened around you, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his voice etched with emotion. “I’m here okay? I’m right here.”
You nodded, the tension in your body slowly beginning to ease as you let yourself relax in his embrace. He gently guided you back down to the floor, sitting with you, his arms never leaving your body as he held you close trying to offer you some semblance of comfort.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, over and over, his voice breaking each time. “I should’ve protected you.. I should’ve known.”
“Rafe, stop,” you whispered back, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “You couldn’t have known, this isn’t your fault.”
He shook his head, tears welling in his own eyes now as he looked at you, his expression filled with regret and self-loathing. “I just.. I never wanted something like this to happen to you. You don’t deserve this, you deserve so much better.”
You placed your hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing away a tear that escaped. “Don’t, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “I just need you with me right now. That’s all I need.”
Rafe’s eyes softened and he nodded, his forehead resting against yours as he let out a shaky breath. “I’m here,” he whispered again. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be right here as long as you need.”
You closed your eyes, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you leaned into him, letting his presence soothe the raw edges of your emotions. Rafe’s hands ran soothingly up and down your back, his touch gentle and calming as he whispered soft reassurances into your ear.
For a long time the two of you just sat there on the bathroom floor, wrapped in each others arms, the world outside fading away as you found solace in each other. Rafe kept murmuring apologies, but you hushed him each time because the only thing that mattered right now was that he was here with you, holding you together when you felt like falling apart.
And as minutes ticked by, you started to feel a sense of peace returning, knowing that no matter what happened next you wouldn’t have to face it alone. Rafe was here, and for now, that was enough.
#rafe cameron#obx netflix#obx imagine#rafe cameron fic#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#obx fics#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe imagine#rafe fluff#rafe angst#rafe cameron x you#rafe x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe fic#rafe fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#outer banks fic#obx cast#rafe obx#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafescurtainbangz#obx fanfiction#obx fandom#rafe prompt
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belittling the reign
synopsis: the people began to doubt Geta, and in return, so did members of the senate. The emperor began to act wildly, his temper just a reach away. It all came crashing down when a man of the senate brought the empress up and how she would fall with the emperor.
pairing: Emperor geta / empress! reader
Warnings: Violence, anger, choking, death. Protectiveness/Possessive.
The room was dim, save for the flicker of torchlight dancing across the stone walls. Geta sat at the long table, his goblet half-full, eyes fixed on the dull gleam of his dagger. He had been deep in thought, tired from the endless political maneuvering of the Senate, when the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his silence.
The door creaked open, and a figure entered—Marcus, a senator known for his sharp tongue and sharper ambitions. Geta didn’t look up as the man approached, choosing instead to swirl the dark wine in his cup.
“Geta,” Marcus began, his voice oozing with false politeness. “I trust you’re well this evening.”
Geta grunted in response, not bothering to hide his disdain. He knew this man all too well—his visits were never without some form of scheming. Marcus circled the room slowly, his fingers tracing the edge of the table as he moved closer.
“You know, it’s funny,” Marcus continued, his tone casual, though laced with something more sinister. “There’s been a lot of talk in the streets lately. The citizens are starting to wonder how much longer Rome will have to bear the burden of a violent ruler.” The man let out a chuckle, it reverberated through the room and Geta swore his fingers shook with an emitting anger.
The emperor’s eyes flicked upward for the first time, meeting Marcus’s gaze with a steely intensity. The senator smiled, a smirk dancing on his lips as he leaned against the table, arms crossed.
“They say,” Marcus went on, “that there will soon be a new emperor. A man who leads not with blood, but with wisdom. One who doesn’t lose himself to rage every time a senator dares to speak out. The people... they’re excited, Geta. They’re waiting for the day Rome is free of your wrath… Maybe Caracalla would be a better fit?”
Geta’s grip tightened on the goblet, the muscles in his arm tensing as he fought to contain his growing anger. “You tread on dangerous ground, Marcus,” he warned, his voice low and cold.
Breath in. Breath out. Remember your wife, the sweet laugh, those little dimples that littered your face when he told a good story.
But Marcus was undeterred. He leaned in closer, his breath hot and smug as he whispered, “Perhaps you’re the one who should be careful. People don’t fear you anymore, Geta. They’re waiting for your death. And when it comes, oh how they’ll cheer. Finally, a ruler worthy of the Empire will take your place.”
A dark laugh escaped Marcus’s lips, but it was quickly cut off by Geta’s sudden movement. In a flash, the emperor had risen from his seat, standing tall over the senator. Marcus stiffened, but continued, confidence seemed to block the mans rational fears. “What will your pretty little wife do when you’re gone, I wonder? Maybe she’ll find solace in someone with real power.”
That was the last mistake.
Geta’s fury ignited like a wildfire, burning through every shred of control he had left. Before Marcus could react, Geta’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around the man’s throat. The senator’s eyes widened in shock as he gasped for breath, his hands clawing uselessly at Geta’s iron grip.
“You dare threaten my wife?” Geta growled, his voice trembling with rage. His face was twisted in a snarl, the veins in his neck bulging as he squeezed tighter. “You think you can speak to me of death? Speak to me of weakness?” He spat the words with venom, his grip tightening as Marcus’s face turned pale, then purple.
The senator’s eyes bulged, and his mouth opened and closed in silent pleas for mercy, but Geta’s rage was far beyond words now. He lifted Marcus off the ground, the senator’s feet dangling as he struggled weakly. The torchlight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as Geta’s expression darkened with each passing second.
“You thought you could replace me? With my own brother?!” Geta whispered, leaning in close to the dying man’s ear. “There will be no one else, dear Marcus. I am Rome, hm? I. Am. Rome.”
Marcus’s body jerked one last time, and then he went still. Geta held him there for a moment longer, the senator’s lifeless eyes staring into nothingness, before finally letting the body fall to the ground with a heavy thud.
The room was silent, save for the sound of Geta’s ragged breathing. He stood over Marcus’s corpse, his chest rising and falling with the aftershocks of his rage. Slowly, he lowered his hand, twisting and turning the jeweled rings around his fingers while wiping the sweat from his brow. His gaze dropped to the dead man at his feet, his heart still pounding in his chest, though calmer now.
A twisted calm, one born of violence.
“Threatening my liege. My Wife,” Geta muttered to himself, stepping over Marcus’s body as he made his way toward the door. “They will all burn before I leave the throne.”
-
The hallways were dimly lit, the flickering flames of the torches casting long, distorted shadows along the stone walls. Geta’s breathing was still ragged, his pulse pounding in his ears as he moved through the empty corridors. His hands, still tingling with the memory of squeezing the life out of Marcus, twitched at his sides. Sweat clung to his brow, slicking his skin and making his tunic stick to his chest.
He could feel the weight of what he had done. The senator’s limp body, the satisfaction that had come when his struggles ceased. It was a different kind of battle—one where no soldier could see him, and no one could speak of it.
Yet, the thrill of victory felt different this time. It wasn’t the fight he was used to. He wasn’t on the battlefield, brandishing his sword, earning the respect of his men. This victory had been personal, quiet... but more satisfying than he could have imagined. Marcus had been wrong—there would be no new ruler. Not while Geta breathed.
He thought of the senators who whispered behind closed doors, plotting to strip him of his power. He thought of the citizens who questioned his rule, who had dared to entertain the idea of another emperor, a more peaceful one. And now he thought of those who might still move against him. They had made one fatal error—they underestimated his resolve, his willingness to do whatever was necessary to protect what was his. He had been lenient for too long.
His footsteps echoed in the silence as he neared the door to his chambers. The weight of his actions, the violence he was still capable of, burned beneath his skin, but as he pushed open the heavy wooden door, the tension seemed to soften.
There, lying in the massive bed, was his wife—your form draped in blankets, the soft rise and fall of your chest showing the example of a peaceful slumber. You were so.. completely unaware of what he had just done, unaware of the thoughts that now consumed him.
Geta stood in the doorway for a moment, simply watching. His wife had been the one constant in his life, the anchor to his rage. You had calmed him when no one else could.
His breath still came in short bursts, his chest tight with the remnants of his fury. Slowly, he approached the bed, his legs heavy beneath him as if the weight of the world had finally caught up with him. He collapsed beside you, the bed creaking under his weight. He was slick with sweat, the heat of the earlier confrontation still radiating from his body. He exhaled deeply, his muscles sagging as he sunk into the mattress.
His wife stirred slightly, your hand brushing against his arm as she mumbled something incoherent in sleep. Your touch was soft, gentle—so unlike the violence that had consumed him only moments before. For a moment, Geta considered waking you, telling just what had transpired, but no. You didn’t need to know about the bloodshed, the threat to their life. You didn’t need to carry the burden of his thoughts.
But in the stillness of the night, with his wife sleeping so peacefully beside him, his mind churned with plans. He would not be overthrown. He would not be replaced by anyone who dared to dream of ruling Rome in his stead. Geta would seek out the usurpers, one by one. He would find every senator, every noble, every conspirator who dared question his rule, and he would deal with them the same way he dealt with Marcus. There would be no mercy.
His wife shifted again, pressing closer to him, your hand now resting on his chest, and for a brief moment, the thoughts of violence faded. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her warmth, the way your perfect body curved against his.
But even as his breath steadied and exhaustion began to pull him into sleep, one thought remained clear in his mind: no one would threaten his reign. No one would ever threaten you again.
And when the time came to deal with the rest of them, Geta knew, deep down, he would not hesitate. Rome was his. And he would destroy anyone who thought otherwise.
#x reader#fanfiction#gladiator x reader#gladiator ii#gladiator#gladiator 2#emperor geta x you#emperor geta x reader#geta#geta x you#geta x reader#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn#joe quinn#movie
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kismet [ teaser ] | sylus
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/45d64317a612ce40211660119ac50497/5331ad4878f61fb3-2a/s540x810/e9eb1eac47fe029b8f44682930ee52f8fed98827.jpg)
— summary: “are you going to keep picking at my bed sheets until you’ve reduced them to mere threads?” sylus’ voice startles you, bringing you careening back to the present. the sheet slips from your fingers as you cower like a scolded child, bathed in the imposing aura he emits. “you could say something. or we could just sit here listening to each other breathe for the rest of the night. take your pick.”
— cw: blood, injury, violence, minor character deaths, language, self-loathing, unrequited (requited) feelings, mdni
— now playing: i got u - austin farwell
Consciousness comes toddling in like newborn kittens.
You anticipate the sound of birds chirping outside. Anticipate sunbeams kissing your eyelids and the crisp scent of your comforter. Instead, you’re ushered into wakefulness by insistent ticking. By a dull throbbing in your side and by something silken sliding down your bare stomach to pool around your hips.
Uh-oh.
You jolt up. What a shitty idea that proves to be. White hot pain explodes in your side, anchoring you back down to the bed. Bed? Bed…when did you—
Your vision blurs and bends, adjusting in the low light. You make out discernible shapes and colors from your spot propped against a pillow. The aroma that greets you isn’t one associated with your home. But it’s familiar all the same. Inherently masculine with undernotes of bergamot, amber, and—
Ah, fuck.
Reality barrels in. You wince as you take in the sheets pooled around you. Their texture, their color. You’re surrounded by furniture that isn’t yours but is recognizable. And the ticking is familiar, too, coming from a clock nestled in the corner.
This isn’t your bed. This isn’t your room. This is…this is…
The clearing of a throat interrupts your internal panicking. You shrink away from the source of the sound, but you soon learn to regret that. The ache from before returns, though not as severe. Still, it’s enough for you to grit your teeth with a hiss leaking through.
“Sweetie,” warns a murky voice from your bedside—his bedside. You stiffen, the color draining from your face. “If you keep jostling about like that, you’ll reopen your wound.”
A peek in your periphery reveals what you fear—a wash of scarlet and white.
You rigidly slide back down against his mattress, wishing it could swallow you whole. Wishing you could recede into your skin like a turtle. He’s barely said more than a sentence to you, yet you can sense his vexation as if he’s given you a whole PowerPoint presentation.
You toy with some stitching in his sheets. Your heart thrums fiercely in your ears. The throbbing in your side can’t compare to that gnarling feeling in your gut. You don’t dare look at him. Don’t have to, irritation rolling off him in waves. He’s pissed if the set of his jaw in your periphery is any gauge. You would be, too, if you found yourself like that.
You fucked up. And you don’t think any amount of groveling will fix this.
—
It was a routine negotiation.
Well, you had hoped it would be.
You weren’t at all surprised when it went south; Niko was known for being a greedy bastard. Not only did he want the military-grade weapons you were selling in Sylus’s stead. But he also wanted to keep his pockets full. Figured he’d bump you off while absconding with the goods and money.
Naturally, Niko sicked his men on you. One by one, you took down hulking thugs, your instincts and Evol guiding you through the fray. It had been a minute since you got your hands dirty. You wanted to savor the moment, the purpling of your knuckles, and the thrill of a good fight.
Caught up in the action, you hadn’t noticed one of Niko’s men charging you with a machete until it was too late. He sliced you good, breaking through skin before you could spin out of reach. You grit your teeth against the initial shock, but the adrenaline that spilled through you muted the pain.
When the henchman drew back for another swing, you used his weight to your advantage, throwing him off-kilter. Maneuvering behind him to pull him into a chokehold, you used that same machete to tear through his carotid. He fell to the ground, his life spilling from him on the concrete.
You took down the remainder of Niko’s men in a similar fashion, oblivious to how fucked you truly were. When the last of his henchmen hit the ground, you confronted the kingpin himself. Of course, he took off running in the wake of your ire.
They always fucking ran.
The bastard was surprisingly quick for an old man, leading you on a chase through the moonlit docks. All the action exacerbated your wound, its severity gradually announcing itself and slowing you down. You finally cornered Niko, dealing the killing blow. Left him propped against a safety bollard, split open and leaking red as a warning for anyone who dared to cross Sylus.
Reality set in as you hobbled back to your bike, the case of weapons and cash cumbersome in your hands.
You were hurt. Bad. So much that you stumbled into a brick wall in an alleyway. It bit unforgivingly into your shoulder but was a cold, welcome reprieve against your feverish, sweat-slicked skin.
You clutched your side as a visceral pain tore through you. A glance down revealed your blood seeping through the gaps of your fingers, glistening condescendingly in the moonlight.
It was a jagged slice. Tore through skin and tissue, rubbed raw from your clothing. Untreated, it would fester and grow gangrenous, not to mention the blood loss. You didn’t trust yourself to make it to the hospital on your bike. Not when you were near tears, struggling to stay conscious.
You turned a bitter laugh to the sky, though it was converted into a wheeze. This was what you deserved. What you got for being so complacent, driven to recklessness by your petty feelings. By your need to stay on top and prove your worthiness.
Your breaths were shallow. Inhaling was laborious, amplifying the pain. You sank to your knees, fumbling your phone from your pocket. The screen was smeared with blood as you struggled to cue up a contact. Thankfully, the receiver clicked to life, a feminine voice lighting up the other end.
“Hey,” you breathed, your cell shakily held to your ear. “Need your help. Dropping a pin.”
You ignored the alarm in her voice at your cryptic words. Didn’t have time for questions, hanging up before marking your location and sharing it.
Your phone clattered to the ground, the sound of it jarring amid distant cars moving about on the streets and dogs barking somewhere far off. You propped yourself up on the alleyway wall, sucking down as much air as you could. Tried to calm yourself, watching the clouds glaze over the moon overhead—anything to distract you. To nullify the pain.
The ache subsided the slightest bit. With some effort, you divested yourself of your blazer to pack it into your side. The texture gliding against your wound aggravated it. But you needed something temporary to staunch the bleeding until help arrived.
Exhaustion was pulling you under, darkened tendrils furling in your chest like smoke and clouding your eyes. You were about to give in to its inky embrace before headlights flooded your vision, chasing away the dreamlike smog.
You looked up at the frantic clicking of shoes along the pavement. Chuckled something breathy at the fear sinking onto her face. You didn’t deserve her concern, but having someone fret over you felt nice.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” said Nadia, helping you stand with your arm slung over her shoulder.
Nadia was one of Lux’s bartenders. Could whip up a mean martini and was a faithful confidant. You sometimes called her when you were in a bind. As much of a fuck up you’d been lately, you trusted her never to go running her mouth to Sylus.
She guided you to her car. You blinked away the bleariness, swallowing past the sand in your throat.
“Not yet. Gotta…see the bossman first.”
The car door slammed behind you once Nadia eased you into the passenger seat. For a moment, you sat silently, forehead propped against the crisp window as you dripped blood on her tan seat. Shit. You’d clean it up. You promised.
You watched Nadia round the car with your cases in tow before she slipped into the driver's side. The leather of the steering wheel squelched in her white-knuckled grip. She gave you a tight-lipped look. Wanted to argue, but there was no sense in trying to change your mind. You were stubborn to a fault.
Nodding, Nadia backed the car out of the alleyway and eased onto the street. She kept tabs on you throughout the drive, occasionally peering over to ensure you were still among the conscious.
You promised you’d see the doc after you reported to Sylus. You just hoped to hold yourself together long enough to see him.
—
Lux’s iron-wrought gates panned into view.
As much as she burned to, Nadia vowed not to snitch, so long as you sought out a medic when you were done. You were thankful for that. She’d kept your injuries under wraps for so long. You didn’t think you could handle inconveniencing your boss with your stupid little wounds. He already had enough on his plate—enough people to occupy his mind.
Your side still throbbed as Nadia snuck you in through the club’s back doors. She shepherded you into a dressing room, helping you disinfectant and wrap your injury before assisting you with your dress. It was a tight little number. Something to hold your bindings in place, dark enough to disguise any blood that managed to seep through.
Reluctantly, Nadia left you to your own devices. You’d swept your hair into some semblance of neat in the mirror. Blotted sweat and grime from your face, patting your cheeks to bring back some color.
You could do this. You’d suffered worse. Mustering up your last vestiges of strength, you stood, ignoring the sticky pull of the gauze against your laceration. You dragged yourself through Lux’s stilled halls, ending your journey at the heavy double doors leading to Sylus’ office.
It was laborious, pushing them open. You’d sapped the last of energy doing so. Your vision doubled, a thatch of white dancing through the chaos. You barely made out the terror lining Sylus’ features. Barely heard the hurried click of his shoes over marbled floors and the fear hijacking his voice when you collapsed in the doorframe.
You felt so very cold. But his hands were warm, squeezing your arms like that. He shook you lightly, the scarlet of his eyes glinting through your bleariness. His voice was muddled. He was saying something. Asking something. You couldn’t decipher what. You were tired. Just wanted to sleep.
You felt pressure on your side. His hand. Heard him suck in a breath, your blood sticky on his palm. Dammit. You thought you’d done a decent job packing your wound. Whatever. You'd do better next time.
The world fell away as he called your name. You couldn’t keep your eyes open. Tried to answer, but you were already gone, sinking below the depths as if weighed down by cinder blocks.
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How will the NRC boys react when you overblot with the thought of suicide?
I don't know what I am doing, but since many people are interested in Suicide Overblot Reader, I will write something for it then. Reference to this post.
I think I will try to do all of them. I hope...
Some might be OOC because I don't understand their character enough (Trey and Cater in this post case), sorry if it bothers you guys.
I don't really write it as platonic or romantic, try to keep it neutral so u can read it the way u want?
Warning: Mention of suicide, self-destructive, angst, depression(?), blood,... a bit heavy thought I guess?
Part: Hearslabyul
Riddle
- When he reaches Ramshackle and sees you got overblot, he is uneasy but still remains calm and serious.
- Slightly think that part of this is his fault for not paying more attention to you. He knows that you had to bear a lot of things lately, with school, with Crowley's unreasonable quest,...
- But, he has to stay strong, he has to, he is a Housewarden after all.
- But... when Riddle sees you hurt yourself, he is stunned and terrified. This can't be happening, it shouldn't be.
- He hears your faint cries about your insecurities, your fear of being a burden... and your wish to disappear.
- It makes him heartache, wonder what has made you reach this point. Then, it hit him, every word he told you when you guys first knew each other, before his overblot, and before he changed.
- This must be his fault, he has hurt you... Riddle lost in his guilt, almost overblot right then and there.
- Even Trey can't pull him back to reality, but Ace's punch can.
- "Stop blaming yourself, don't you want to save them?" It actually helps Riddle calm down.
- Riddle braced himself, he had to make it right, so he could apologize to you properly.
- You got him traumatized. And you guys will also have a longgg conversation after things end.
Trey:
- He is... a lil bit shocked and worried about the situation. But, years of taking care of Riddle and his maturity helped him stay calm.
- Even when you hurt yourself, he only flinches a bit before pulling out his pen and trying to destroy the black inky thorns without hurting you.
- Things get worse when Riddle loses his sanity and starts to blame himself while Ace and Deuce lose their cool, kicking and fighting to get to you.
- Try to calm Riddle down. But it's no use.
- Ace's outbursts still make him surprised every time, but at least things have become more stable. They can focus on the main problem now.
- He keeps calm through it all, but when everything comes to an end, he falls to the ground and exhales all his built-up tension.
- He will check in on you a lot more. Reaching out to you, asking about your day, and baking you a lot of treats. Become your figure mother at some point...
Cater:
- Like Trey, being the third-year he is, Cater is much more mature and reliable than he seems.
- Use his unique magic, protect the first year, and even try to lighten the mood while keeping an eye on you.
- He is not too worried since everyone is gathering here, to save you! So nothing can be wrong... right?
- The moment he sees the blood splatter out of your body, he inhales sharply and trembles slightly before turning around to block the view of the freshmen.
- But he fails to keep them from the view, so now Ace and Deuce go berserk. At least Epel and Jack are still sober enough to hold the duo back.
- Multitasking. Become much more serious.
- After it all, he won't force you to tell him things but he will talk with you a lot more, maybe about this funny meme or some new trend on Magicam. Do his best to make you laugh.
Ace:
- He first tries to joke about this when he sees you in your oveblot form. Act cool and funny but can't hide his care for you. Swear that he will knock you on your head a few times for making them worry sick.
- The moment you hurt yourself? Ace and Deuce tried to rush toward you but got held back by other first-years.
- Scold you, told you to stop hurting yourself, and even threatened that if you don't stop he will fight you...
- Also scold you for being stupid. Yes, you're magicless but you also have survived many life-or-death situations that even a pro mage can't. You're not useless!!!
- Asked Riddle to do something just to find out his dorm leader is having a mental breakdown right there.
- He punches Riddle (the second time), how can he act like that when you're still in danger?!
- Ace also cooled down after that, he left the job of returning you to normal to the Dorm leader while helping others destroy those blot-made thorns to prevent them from hurting you.
- You guys will have to talk a lot after this, and you know can't avoid it, Prefect.
Deuce:
- His face turned pale the moment he saw you. Out of anyone, he doesn't think you're the one who got overblot.
- Especially when you stab yourself, he lost his mind. The moment he runs out to you, Epel holds him back. Others told him to calm down, to make a plan.
- But, Deuce can't even hear a word, all he can hear is your whimpering and the scene of the thorns lunging through your flesh keeps playing in his mind.
- Like Riddle, he also blames himself. The difference is that he blames himself for not looking out for you more. You guys have been friends since the beginning and you are always taking care of them, but they have failed to do so for you.
- The guilty feeling building up inside him made him mad, he wanted to punch, to fight, to take his anger out on something.
- After the "fight" between Riddle and Ace went off, Deuce finally calmed down.
- After things end, the moment you back to normal, he will immediately run to you and hold you close, afraid that if he lets go, you will disappear.
- Says sorry to you again and again...
- Become a bit paranoid and protective after your suicide attempt.
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5.C: This took me forever to finish, now I have 17 more to finish. Gotta say, Riddle is the easiest person to write about.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#ace trappola#riddle rosehearts#ace trapolla#deuce spade#cater diamond#twst x yuu#heartslabyul#heartslaybul x reader
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